Potter and Black: Book Four
by Hisagi-Tan
Summary: Here we go to James and Harry's fourth year! Twists and turns, run through this story. Can James pull it together or will this be the mystery that leads to her death? It all ends with a watch and a bracelet.
1. Chapter 1

I am so sorry that it took me this long to get the fourth book started, but I go to a magnet school and they are piling homework on our asses. So here is the so much awaited chapter of Black and Potter Book: 4!

Disclaimer: I own nothing that is recognized besides James, and HunnyABee's Naira who will make some appearances.

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James was running, where? She had no idea it was too misty and if she looked close enough she could see flashes of green light shoot out. Thunder cackled from the heavens and she ran faster. As she ran the images around her became clearer until the place she was running in was seen to be a cemetery. It was silent and creepy before death eaters by the hundreds appeared along with her friends, and they were fighting. Dodging spells herself she hid behind a pillar to see a death eater coming for her, he was killed by a black dog, her father. James cried silently as she watched the carnage. Then all the noise cut off and a small white puppy came running into her arms.

"_So scared, no idea where momma went! But momma is here now!"_ the pup cried and James held the dog tighter to her. She rocked back and forth her eyes on the corpses of her family dead in front of her.

"_MOMMA HERMIONE!"_ wailed an orange cat that James knew to be Crookshanks.

"_My human, where is he? Oh know I lost him." _Shrieked the little owl her father had given Ron during the ride home.

"_Harry! Where are you? Harry you little hatchling, where are you?" _Hedwig's cries pierced the air.

"_My masssster, where isss my masssster_?" Hissed out a long deadly looking snake James had never seen before.

"_Amigo! Wake up! You can't let that possser win, Amigo!" _hissed the snake from the zoo.

"_Sirius! Where are you young one?"_ Cried out Buckbeak.

"_Daddy Hagrid?"_

"_Daddy!"_

"_Wake up Father!" _

James watched as Fluffy growled at the still man on the ground before howling as one in agony.

"_No HAGRID! WAKE UP YOU FOOL!"_ barked Fang sharply.

"_Argus, darling? Where are you, sweetheart?" _Mrs. Norris mewed out.

"_Albus you fool, is this what you wanted with your "for the greater good."" _Fawkes sang out standing on the ground looking at the man.

"_Momma?" _The little pup asked looking up at James with Fred's dark chocolate brown eyes.

"Yes pup?" James finally spoke and all the animals looked at her with sorrowed filled eyes.

"_You won't let this happen will you?" _the pup asked again with tear filled eyes.

"No pup, I won't they would have to kill me first to do this." James said with a fire in her eyes.

"_We give you our hopes and our wishes to you then, Mistress James." _All the other animals spoke in one and James snapped awake and rolled off the bed as water rained down on it from the three in the house who now looked at the dazed looking 14 year old girl who slowly comprehended what had just happened.

"I'll give you guys a five second head start one…" The boys had ran before she could finish saying the word five and the house was filled with curses, laughter, and smiles.

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So I liked it did you guys? Or have I become rusty in my break of writing?

Please review!~

KrisxCross out!~


	2. Chapter 2

I feel kind of bad leaving you guys for so long so I'm going to try and do steady updates, but school is murder, and even as we speak I have homework to do =(. So enjoy!

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James smirked at her handy work, Sirius was upside down hanging from the banister on the second floor, Harry was tied to the wall being screamed at by Sirius's mom; her grandmother, and Remus was tied to a chair next to a plate full of chocolaty goodness.

"I give you sadistic girl!" Remus cried amber eyes on the chocolate, drooling slightly. James untied the man who pounced on the chocolate.

"Jaybird~ I give up! You're the winner…can you let me down now?" Sirius whined to his daughter who shrugged but gave Kreacher the okay, who promptly cut the rope and Sirius fell to the floor.

"BLOODY HELL! JAMES SAVE MY EARS FROM THIS BITCH, PLEASE I GIVE!" Harry cried and smiling a sadistic smirk at him, she untied him and bid the portrait farewell, who smiled an identical sadistic grin at her.

The days at Grimwauld place had been filled with smiles, laughs, and curses. The small 'family' loved it and had even cleaned the house completely. They left the room that had the name Regulus alone in respect to James's uncle and Sirius's little brother. James had also been to the burrow several times the Weasley's still had no idea that Fred and her were together besides, Charlie, Ron, Ginny, and George. She spent time lazing around with the twins, but mostly Fred who shared silent moments that had at first shocked George growing up with the louder twin who he would see trace James's hands, face, or stomach gently with care and share a small moment that only those two could say something with the slightest movement, the emotions in their eyes, or the twitch of their lips. George found himself leaving the two for the moments, before they would help him with the joke shop idea they had been having for a while. Telling James had been an agreement among brothers, they knew James would never stop being their friend if Fred and James broke up, it would be slightly awkward for a week or so but they would be just like before. They had at first congratulated James on getting the motion to bring dogs to Hogwarts passed, they had celebrated with fireworks and Percy's glasses who still was being a right prat to everyone. Harry, Hermione, and Ron spent most of the summer together and James felt weird being with them, it was like a club and she wasn't invited. That's when it happened, James walked into the kitchen to hear Harry talking to the two others about his scar.

"I had this really weird dream, and I woke up with my scar hurting like crazy." Harry said and the others went on a worry tirade.

"What was the dream about?" James asked walking past them and the silence that followed gave her the answer that she needed, she wasn't wanted or even expected to help with this. So she left silently ignoring Hermione's "I'm sorry" look and going upstairs to write to Blaise.

Dear Jay,

How has your summer been? Mine has been taxing, my mother has been talking to some "friends" about him. I don't know about you but I think something is going down this year. They have been saying something about a tournament. I don't know what to do, my mother expects me to become one of them. I don't know what to do James! I need advice, help, or something! Draco's freaking out to because his father said he expects Draco to be involved with the Dark Lord to. I'm scared James.

Sincerely,

Blaise

James read the letter ten times before she felt her insides ice over. Something was going down at Hogwarts this year, and had something to do with Voldemort. Blaise, while a Slytherin was also her friend and surprisingly Fred and George have taken a liking to him, he couldn't join the Dark Lord he was too soft hearted to do it. So James wrote out her response with a furrowed brow.

Dear Laze,

What tournament are they talking about? The Quidditch world cup or something else? You know I'm here for you Blaise, I don't want you to join Voldemort but it's your choice. Don't be scared, you have me who can and will take you in if you run for it, you know I will. Fred and George, as Slytherin haters have surprisingly accepted you. Draco is my cousin and if he wants help all he has to do is ask, as you know blood is thicker than water. Stop worrying and decide, be one of the Dark Lord's Bitches or come live with me and be safe from joining him or his wrath. You know me, I'm surprisingly hard to get rid of.

Sincerely,

James

Sending the letter off with Blaise's owl, Rayne, a black barn owl that had golden eyes, James quietly took a sip of her butterbeer staring up at her ceiling. She was soon joined by Fred who just sat on her bed and traced her face delicately but the message was there, Look at me love. Turing her navy silver glittered eyes on the red head she saw love and something else, she couldn't explain it but it made her feel nice. Her eyes softening upon looking at him, she gave her message, I'm looking love.

"What has you all alone when the others are downstairs?" he asked with a deeper husky voice that he required over the summer that had James almost melting.

"Seems I'm not wanted down there with what they are discussing." James answered lazily cupping his cheek. James and Fred had changed during the summer, they were more grown up. James stood at 5'4" her hair at her shoulder blades, her face still the soft angled features, her body was more pronounced more curvy and she had been gifted with "assets" as George calls them. She had laughed and said that he was a prude and that she had tits and a great ass, which made George blush and Fred smirk. Fred on the other hand stood at 5'11" with a broader chest and muscled arms. James had insisted that Fred get a decent haircut and he got his hair cut in a messy skater style that James loved. George looked exactly like Fred and even had the same haircut; he seemed to be writing to Angelina a lot. Angelina was coming back this year and Oliver who had graduated last year had not chosen who would remain on the team her or Angelina. So here she lay with Fred playing with her wavy hair with a lazy smirk on his face when the door burst open and the two looked over to see her father Sirius, had a crazed look in his eyes until he saw that James was just laying down with Fred who still had a piece of her hair around his finger.

"Yeah dad?" James asked sitting up her back cracking and Fred who snorted at her back cracking.

"Nothing, um Harry, Hermione, and Ron wanted to know if you wanted to come downstairs and talk." Sirius said with a suspicious look at Fred who was still twirling a piece of James's hair around his finger. James rolled her eyes before standing up and giving the two men a look that said, "Get the hell out so I can dress." The men left in a hurry.

James quickly got dressed in a sleeveless black button up shirt, a pair of red skinny jeans with black chains, black and red chucks, and a red loose tie around her neck. Brushing her hair and applying eyeliner, mascara, some red eye shadow, Charlie's earrings, and the black family crest choker. Going downstairs she was met with her father's protective gaze, her boyfriend's hooded look, and her friends who looked a bit shocked as if they never saw her before.

"That is so not fair!" Hermione whined looking at the difference between their chests and James couldn't help but laugh with her boyfriend and her gasping father.

"That's how genetics work." James said with a slight chuckle and a shrug.

"Whatever Sly." Hermione said and the two smirked at each other and soon the four soon to be fourth years were left alone in the parlor that they took seats. James took the arm chair across from the teens who have snubbed her all summer. Her grandfather's portrait snorted when he saw their set up.

"Going for the godfather look, my dear?" He asked and James smirked.

"And when have you seen a muggle movie?" She asked and he just smirked her same smirk back at her.

"Sirius gets his personality from somewhere, dear one." He replied and James nodded at him before looking at her "friends."

"We have to know if you can be trusted with this James." Ron began with a nervous twitch.

"Your friends with a Slytherin and are Dating Fred, we don't want them to know, can we trust you?" Harry asked with seriousness and Hermione gave her a look that said, "Boys" with a roll of her eyes and James chuckled at it.

"I would never tell them something you guys wanted to keep only amongst us, Blaise respects that and Fred and George have their secrets." James said with a look at them.

"Marauder swear." Harry said with a solemn look. The girls shared a look before getting up and standing in front of the other.

"Do you Miss Sly swear upon your marauder hood to never tell a soul unless told to? To respect the secrets of another marauder? To solemnly swear to it?" Hermione asked and they watched as she glowed a slight blue.

"I solemnly swear Miss Fierce upon my marauder hood to never tell a soul the secrets of another marauder unless given permission to." James said with a serious face that Hermione matched and watched at the two glowed blue together before the blue glow faded.

"Alright, I have been having nightmares where I am either Voldemort of his snake and my scar hurts after them." Harry told her seriously and James listened to the recent one about an old man dying by Voldemort. James nodded her head as she listened and when he was done they waited for her reaction.

"I would have to say that you somehow have a connection to Voldemort and are subconsciously tapping into his mind, being who he is he may very well be getting into your mind too. You should learn Occlumency to make sure he can't get information from you and it could stop the nightmares." James said with a thoughtful look on her pretty face. After debating about it the four decided they would all learn Occlumency together. Walking over to the fire place the four disappeared into the green roaring flames to disappear with a cry of, "The Burrow!"

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So how do you guys like it?

Please review!

KrisxCross out!~


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys sorry you all had to wait so long, I had to go to a parade on Saturday and I was doing homework on Sunday so I hope you guys enjoy chapter three!~

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Fred, George, and James stood together as the others all talked amongst themselves, Fred and George couldn't believe that James had dragged them to a party that Blaise was being forced to go to.

"This place is full of death eaters." Fred hissed holding James to his chest as she scanned for her Slytherin friend. A cough caught their attention and the trio spun to see a very terrified looking Draco Malfoy, his hair was shaggy and his eyes had a lot of bags underneath them.

"Draco?" James whispered before flinging herself at the blonde who buried his head into his older cousin's black hair.

"God, get me out of here, please James, please." Draco begged silently his voice hoarse and cracking and James could swear she felt something wet land on her head.

"Shhhhh, dear. I'm gonna get you out love." James said in comfort; Fred and George were covering the two and looking for Blaise.

"Guys…"Hissed a tired voice and the four looked over to see a terrible looking Blaise. They followed Blaise to a room where a fireplace was.

"Blaise, hun? You feeling alright?" Coaxed James who put a hand on his tan cheek, he looked down at her with a small smile before nodding. Soon the five were in the green flames and spinning into the Black families living room at the feet of Hermione, Harry, Ron, Remus, and Sirius who all looked shocked.

"James, whats going on?" Sirius questioned with eyes looking at the other two boys near his daughter.

"I'll explain later….I'll explain later." James murmured as she lead the two Slytherins to two rooms that they fell asleep in. Going down stairs she went and snuggled into Fred's arms who squeezed her to him. George took out a letter and handed it to Sirius who was crowded by the others to read the letter.

James,

I have very little time to write to you. My mother is throwing a party on the fourth of June. The dark lord will rise again, she says. I'm terrified James! The nightmares that she causes talking about the "Glory days!" The way she touches my left forearm as if she treasures it, James she is demanding me to get the mark. I can't do that and I told her this, James she beat me. She almost cast crucio on me. James, oh my god, how grateful to Draco was I then. James, Draco…he told me things James, none are good for him…James we need to leave, you offered me a place and exteneded this generous offer to Draco, as you said Blood is thicker than water…on the fourth you need to get us out please! DO NOT WRITE BACK!

Sincerlly Terrified,

Blaise Zanbani.

Sirius looked up to James and took her into his arms and held her close.

"What you did, was very similar to what your namesake did for me. I was worried that naming you after him would rub off on you." Sirius whispered teasingly to his daughter who snorted with Remus at the words.

"Fred, George, Ron, Hermione you guys best go back to the burrow. This situation needs to be fixed and our new house guests need to be given some things." Remus said gently to them and they all nodded hugging Harry who hugged back. Fred and James shared a look and quick kiss that made everyone stare, the two really did love each other didn't they?

Walking up stairs Remus worked on the two boys who they found had been tortured with the crucio and many other hexes. Draco himself had woke from a nightmare and was now in his room crying into James's neck who held him tight and rubbed a few bruise fixing potions into his alabaster skin. Harry himself was with Blaise surprisingly who had clung to the tighter boy when he had woken up and taking the Slytherin into his arms gently he made him drink a few potions and rubbed the bruise potion on to the pale toffee skin. James and Harry left the room going to each other and hugging each other tightly taking in the others sent.

"Brings back memories, huh?" James choked out and Harry let out a dry laugh and held the navy eyed girl tighter to his chest.

"You have no idea, fuck I'm such a fucking douche bag. The way I treat you, hang you out to dry like you don't matter, but the truth is James, I don't think I could do anything without you. The Dursley's you took the brunt force of that, I know you did it for me. The way I treated you because of Sirius, how I treated you this summer. I should know that I could trust you without question with my life, I should hold on to our friendship until you finally see what a fucking jackass I am." Harry hissed out as he held his older shorter cousin who gave him a watery smile.

"I want to hear the words, Harry." James said with a small laugh. Harry snorted but put his face into James's hair.

"I'm so fucking sorry for being a total bastard to you." Harry said, and unknown to the two cousins Remus and Sirius had heard the hold thing and had tears in their eyes. James finally felt her heart feel lighter and her normal navy twinkling eyes twinkled brighter as she hug Harry tighter.

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So, did you guys like it? No, yes, maybe?

Review please!

KrisxCross out~


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys, so my cuz was complaining about how my chapter was too short, I have to agree my chapters have been very short haven't they…although she shouldn't be talking with the way she hasn't even wrote anything since the summer…so yeah lol enjoy!

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James looked over as Blaise, Harry, Draco, Ron, and George played a weird game of three on two Quiditch match. Blaise and Draco have really come out of their shells and are smiling with emotion and have gotten along with what use to be their enemies. Their families have issued missing reports but it's not like it really matters, Grimwauld place was under Fidilus with only Remus who could tell people where it was. Fred and James stood on the sidelines holding each other as they cheered for both teams. In two days the Weasley's and the "Black's" or the Blacks, Lupin, Potter, Zanbani, Malfoy's were going to go to the QUIDITCH WORLD CUP! James and Sirius were roaring for Bulgaria while the others roared for the Irish. It was a friendly rivalry that they put aside when they were all together. James and Sirius had established a friend/father bond together and Harry and Remus had a similar set up. The family branched off with James and Remus being niece/uncle and Sirius and Harry the same. James had been shown to be smiling more often after the cousin's heart to heart. The Gryffindors and Slytherins all have been working on their Occlumency, Fred, George, Draco, and James all seemed to have natural shields being sneaky people or guarded seemed to help with it.

But the highlight of the summer had been when all the kids had flooed to Grimwauld and then left to muggle/ magical London. When they came back many were shocked to find that we all came back with something, a piercing or a tattoo. The Weasley's had been serious trouble while the "Blacks'" had been yelled at but had been praised on them. Harry had gotten his glasses off earlier on in the summer thanks to a vision repairing spell James had shown Remus who had fixed his eye sight. Harry had gotten a tattoo on his right forearm of a silver cuff that had words "carved" into it that read Lily and Prongs. Hermione had gotten her ears pierced with three on the left and four on the right. Ron had gotten a tattoo of the words animus sempiternus or eternal courage wrapped around his right forearm. Fred had gotten a tongue ring that George matched. Ginny had just gotten two ears piercing in each. Blaise had gotten a tattoo on his left forearm that wrapped around it the words said purosangue ribellione or Pureblood rebellion. Draco had gotten snake bites. James had gotten a Marauder tribute on her back and ear piercings with 5 on the left and 4 on the right. Marauder tribute was of the words "Marauder's will never die" on her shoulder blades in an arch with a hoof from a deer in the center with the name James Potter under it, then a wolf print with Remus Lupin on the left of the deer print, and a dog print to the right of the center one with the name Sirius Black under it.

"James," Fred whispered in James ear as they had stopped cheering and were just watching.

"Mmm?" James hummed leaning into Fred's chest who wrapped his arms around her.

"I..I think I may be in love with you." Fred breathed and James stilled, sure they had said I love you to each other but for him to say "in love" was a whole other ball game and James felt the tears fall as she turned into Fred's arms and cupped his face with her hands and smiled a watery smile up at him.

"What if I said that I was already in love with you Mr. Weasley? What would you do?" James said with a small smile and Fred's face broke out into a huge grin and crashed his lips to James's in a heat of passion, tongues dueled, eyes closed, and hearts beat in synch. They broke for air when a set of wolf whistles assaulted them. They looked still holding each other with silly grins on their faces as they looked to see the Quiditch players looking at them on their brooms with smug grins on their faces.

"Awwww, is that all the show we get?" Blaise called out and the others broke into laughter running off towards the Burrow. When they entered Mrs. And Mr. Weasley were looking at Fred and James in shock with Percy while Bill slapped Fred on the back in congratulations.

"How long have you been seeing each other?" Mrs. Weasley spluttered out watching as Fred and James gazed at each other with loving eyes that shocked the parents and siblings that had not known.

"About three months?" James asked Fred who smirked at her.

"I say four in three days." Fred said and James smiled shyly at him which made him touch her cheek tenderly causing a silent moment that the people who had barely found out felt like they were intruding.

"They do this everywhere, if they didn't I would kill your son…no offense but she is my little girl." Sirius said as he came out of the kitchen with Remus. Mrs. And Mr. Weasley looked as Sirius in shock.

"You knew they were together?" Mrs. Weasley asked him in shock.

"Hard not to notice with the eyes, the kisses, and the silent conversations they share. Plus I heard from Harry and her that she was going out with him at Hogwarts." Sirius explained and the woman nodded with a glare at the man.

"Now all we have to do is get Ron and Hermione together and it's all good." Charlie called out and laughed as the two mentioned teens spluttered indignantly and woke James and Fred from their moment to see their families yell, laugh, talk, and smile at each other. The two shared a glance that said "I love moments like these that we all share."

Two days later found the half dead families eating together all talking when Mrs. Weasley stuck her nose into something.

"George!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, and they all jumped.

"What?" said George, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

"What is that in your pocket?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't you lie to me!"

Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said, "Accio!"

Several small, brightly colored objects zoomed out of George's pocket; he, Fred, and James made a grab for them but missed, and they sped right into Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand.

"We told you to destroy them!" said Mrs. Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, all three of you!"

It was an unpleasant scene; the twins and James had evidently been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it was only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley managed to find them all.

"Accio! Accio! Accio!" she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans not to mention James collar.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother as she threw the toffees away.

"Oh a fine way to spend six months!" she shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!"

"They got 7 owls each! That's more than most wizards ever get! We spent six months on those things, debugging them and adding flavors!" James defended the twins easily and ignoring her father who was basically dead on his feet.

All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as they took their departure. Mrs. Weasley was still glowering as she kissed Mr. Weasley on the cheek, though not nearly as much as the twins and James, who had each hoisted their rucksacks onto their backs and walked out without a word to her.

"Well, have a lovely time," said Mrs. Weasley, "and behave yourselves," she called after the twins and James's retreating backs, but they did not look back or answer.

"I'll send Bill, Charlie, and Percy along around midday," Mrs. Weasley said to Mr. Weasley, as he, Harry, Sirius, Remus, Blaise, Draco, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny set off across the dark yard after Fred, James, and George.

It was chilly and the moon was still out.

Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. James though was pissed how that woman dare belittle the twins and her's work! Seven owls were no laughing matter when all the twins had were seven classes all were to be an auror if they wanted to be, if the joke shop idea failed.

"I say we keep the stash at my place, so your mother can get a hold of it," she stated.

"She's been harping on us about this idea since she found the papers," sighed George. "The trouble is, she doesn't believe we can make this work. She just can't see that this is what we really want to do."

Mr. Weasley pointed ahead of them, where a large black mass rose beyond the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.

"What sort of objects are Portkeys?" asked Harry curiously and James smiled as she saw him finger the portkey watch she had got him for his birthday.

"Well, they can be anything," said Mr. Weasley. "Unobtrusive things, obviously, so Muggles don't go picking them up and playing with them… stuff they'll just think is litter…"

They trudged down the dark, dank lane toward the village, the silence broken only by their footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as they made their way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. James's hands and feet were freezing; although once Fred saw her shiver he brought her into a hug. Mr. Weasley kept checking his watch.

They didn't have breath to spare for talking as they began to climb Stoatshead Hill, stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black tuffets of grass. Each breath James took was sharp in her chest and her legs were starting to seize up when, at last, her feet found level ground.

"Whew," panted Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. "Well, we've made good time - we've got ten minutes."

Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side.

"Now we just need the Portkey," said Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big… Come on…"

They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it."

Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.

"Amos!" said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed.

Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr. Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was Captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff House Quidditch team at Hogwarts.

"Hi," said Cedric, looking around at them all. Everybody said hi back except Fred and George, who merely nodded. They had never quite forgiven Cedric for beating their team, Gryffindor, in the first Quidditch match of the previous year and Cedric eyes which had roamed everyone where now fixed to James who was leaning into Fred for warmth and hadn't really noticed his staring at her chest.

"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked.

"Not too bad," said Mr. Weasley. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still… not complaining… Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons - and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy…" Amos Diggory peered good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, Harry, Hermione, James, Blaise, Draco, and Ginny. "All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh no, only the redheads," said Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children. "This is Hermione, friend of Ron's - and Harry, another friend -"

"Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Er - yeah," said Harry.

Harry was used to people looking curiously at him when they met him, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scar on his forehead, but it always made him feel uncomfortable.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," said Amos Diggory. "Told us all about playing against you last year… I said to him, I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will… You beat Harry Potter!"

Harry couldn't think of any reply to this, so he remained silent. Fred and George were both scowling again. Cedric looked slightly embarrassed.

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you… it was an accident…"

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman… but the best man won, I'm sure Harry's say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

"Hey, Harry may have-" Sirius was cut off by Remus's hand over his mouth and the two men glared daggers at each other.

"Must be nearly time," said Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," said Mr. Diggory. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," said Mr. Weasley. "Yes, it's a minute off… We'd better get ready…"

He looked around at the kids, "You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do -"

With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the nine of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory. They all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop.

Nobody spoke. It suddenly occurred to James how odd this would look if a Muggle were to walk up here now… fourteen people, four of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting…

"Three…" muttered Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, 'two… one…"

It happened immediately: James felt as though a hook just behind her navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. Her feet left the ground; she could feel Fred and George on either side of her, their shoulders banging into hers; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color; her forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling her magnetically onward and then - Her feet slammed into the ground; Fred staggered into her and they fell over; the Portkey hit the ground near their heads with a heavy thud.

James looked up. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, Sirius, Remus, George, and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground, besides Fred who was on her and started laughing setting the other's off.

"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill," said a voice shocking them from their laughter.

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How was that for a chapter, huh cuz? Lol and others that like my series?

Review please!~

KrisxCross out!~


	5. Chapter 5

Here is the fifth chapter people! =)

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James disentangled herself from Fred after a quick kiss and got to her feet. They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly: The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho.

"Morning, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him; James could see an old newspaper, an empty drinks can, and a punctured football.

"Hello there, Arthur," said Basil wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some… We've been here all night… You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite… Weasley… Weasley…" He consulted his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr. Roberts. Diggory… second field… ask for Mr. Payne. Black…Black…Ah, around the Weasley's, 10 foot radius from the other."

"Thanks, Basil," said Mr. Weasley, and he beckoned everyone to follow him. They set off across the deserted moor, unable to make out much through the mist.

After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, Harry could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field toward a dark wood on the horizon. They said good-bye to the Diggory's and approached the cottage door. A man was standing in the doorway, looking out at the tents. James knew at a glance that this was the only real Muggle for several acres. When he heard their footsteps, he turned his head to look at them.

"Morning!" said Mr. Weasley brightly.

"Morning," said the Muggle.

"Would you be Mr. Roberts?"

"Aye, I would," said Mr. Roberts. "And who're you?"

"Weasley - two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Black- two tents, booked three days ago?"

"Aye," said Mr. Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door. "You've both got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," said Mr. Weasley while Sirius just nodded along.

"You'll be paying now, then?" said Mr. Roberts.

"Ah - right - certainly -" said Mr. Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned James toward him. "Help me, James,"he muttered, pulling a roll of Muggle money from his pocket and starting to peel the notes apart. "This one's a - a - a ten? Ah yes, I see the little number on it now… So this is a five?"

"A twenty," James corrected him in an undertone, uncomfortably aware of Mr. Roberts trying to catch every word.

"Ah yes, so it is… I don't know, these little bits of paper…"

"You foreign?" said Mr. Roberts as Mr. Weasley returned with the correct notes.

"Foreign?" repeated Mr. Weasley, puzzled.

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," said Mr. Roberts, scrutinizing Mr. Weasley closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley nervously and James quickly counted out the money for the two tents and slyly hand it to Mr. Weasley while Harry did the same for Sirius.

Mr. Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change.

"Never been this crowded," he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up…"

"Is that right?" said Mr. Weasley, his hand held out for his change, but Mr. Roberts didn't give it to him.

"Aye," he said thoughtfully. "People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" said Mr. Weasley anxiously.

"It's like some sort of… I dunno… like some sort of rally," said Mr. Roberts. "They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr. Roberts's front door.

"Obliv-!" he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr. Roberts.

"Your right! It is a party, a family reunion. It's themed though. You know how things are with families." James said easily and pushed the guy's wand down.

"Yeah, you should see some of our cousin's the way they dressed." The wizard that appeared out of nowhere said agreeing with James. The others watched as Mr. Roberts chuckled with a nod in understanding.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr. Roberts said with a chuckle to Mr. Weasley and Sirius. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," said Mr. Weasley.

"Yeah, Thanks." Sirius said with a nod of his head.

The wizard in plus-fours accompanied them toward the gate to the campsite. He looked exhausted: His chin was blue with stubble and there were deep purple shadows under his eyes. Once out of earshot of Mr. Roberts, he muttered to James, "Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy, I'll be using that excuse more often it can't be good for the muggle's memory for me to do that. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur, Miss Black, Sirius." He Disapparated.

"I thought Mr. Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports," said Ginny, looking surprised. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

"He should," said Sirius, smiling, and leading them through the gates into the campsite, "but Ludo's always been a bit… well… lax about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

They trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as Muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bellpulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there was a tent so obviously magical that Harry could hardly be surprised that Mr. Roberts was getting suspicious. Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. Draco had looked sick and had hid his head into James's neck at the sight and James squeezed his hand.

A little farther on they passed a tent that had three floors and several turrets; and a short way beyond that was a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial, and fountain.

"Always the same," said Mr. Weasley, smiling. "We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us."

They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read WEEZLY.

"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr. Weasley happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders.

"Right," he said excitedly, "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult… Muggles do it all the time… Here, Hermione, where do you reckon we should start?"

The Blacks smiled and left towards their own campsite, the ground was more green and spacey that they all liked. Sirius and Remus quickly set up two tents that were large. One was green and showed the support for the Irish while the other was had the Bulgarian colors shown proudly with banners like, "Bulgaria Rocks…" or "Krum, will crush you!"

They had to admit Sirius, Draco, and James had out done themselves. Then the said three came out of their tent and the others couldn't help but smile. James had transfigured her hair to be red, white, and green in a pattern, while her nails were each charmed with the three colors. She wore a two piece spaghetti strapped shirt that was red and white with a green skirt. She had striped stocking as well and trainers on her feet in the same colors. Draco and her had both transfigured their eyes in the three colors as well with a cool affect. Draco had his normal colored hair but his snake bites had been changed to red and green ones. He wore a Bulgaria shirt and green and white striped basketball shorts with the male version of James's trainers. Sirius had red hair and one white eyes and the other green. He wore a bigger version of Draco's shirt and a pair of black pants and the adult version of the other two's trainers.

"Come on Dad, please?" James pleaded looking at him with big eyes and sighing Sirius charmed her shirt so it read, "Bulgaria number one!" and on the back it said, "Krum is the best!" The words all were charmed to turn white or green. The three looked surprisingly like a family together and they were shocked to finally see that Draco in fact looked nothing like his father besides the coloring and that he in fact looked like his mother, a Black. He fit right in as if he belonged with the other two and they had to admit he did, he was in essence a Black just like they were.

"Well we can't let them show us up can we?" Blaise said and headed inside the tent. The other two followed and the three Bulgaria fan's waited. Then they came out and they had to admit, they looked nice. Blaise had his normal black hair but his eyes were green and he wore an Irish shirt that had black words flashing, Bulgaria has no Idea who their messing with." He wore green basketball shorts that had a black trim down the legs like Draco's and green trainers with black shoelaces. Harry came out with the same outfit but his shirt said, "Who need's luck, when the Irish have the skills." Remus came out with black hair and green eyes wearing the same shirt but with the words," Luck of the Irish, Skills of the Irish, Bulgaria don't stand a chance!" and black jeans with the same trainers. Draco and James narrowed their eyes and then looked at Sirius's jeans before forcing him to wear white jeans.

"Let's go see Arthur, I know someone is having Weasley withdraw symptoms." Sirius said and everyone laughed as James stuck her tongue out and raced towards the Weasley's tent. Arriving at the spot James leapt into Fred's arms who spun her around carefully taking note of her skirt.

Arthur appeared a bit ruffled but otherwise beaming smiled at the Blacks and his eyes twinkled with amusement when he saw the six's outfits.

"We'll be a bit cramped," he called, "but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

Harry, James, Draco, and Blaise bent down, ducked under the tent flap, and smiled sadly at the sight. They had walked into what looked like an old-fashioned, three room flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen. Oddly enough, it was furnished in exactly the same sort of style as Mrs. Figg's house: There were crocheted covers on the mismatched chairs and a strong smell of cats.

"Well, it's not for long," said Mr. Weasley, mopping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering in at the four bunk beds that stood in the bedroom. "I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. Doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago."

He picked up the dusty kettle and peered inside it. "We'll need water…"

"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us," said Ron, who had followed the other four inside the tent and seemed completely unimpressed. "It's on the other side of the field."

"Well, why don't you, James, Draco, Blaise, Harry, and Hermione go and get us some water then" - Mr. Weasley handed over the kettle and a couple of saucepans - "and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire?"

"But we've got an oven," said Ron. "Why can't we just -"

"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" said Mr. Weasley, his face shining with anticipation. "When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!"

After a quick tour of the girls' tent, which was slightly smaller than the boys', though without the smell of cats, Harry, Ron, James, Draco, Blaise, and Hermione set off across the campsite with the kettle and saucepans.

Now, with the sun newly risen and the mist lifting, they could see the city of tents that stretched in every direction. They made their way slowly through the rows, staring eagerly around. James smiled and took a deep breath of the adrenalin coated air, her heart beating fast at the competition in the air.

Their fellow campers were starting to wake up. First to stir were the families with small children; Harry had never seen witches and wizards this young before. A tiny boy no older than two was crouched outside a large pyramid-shaped tent, holding a wand and poking happily at a slug in the grass, which was swelling slowly to the size of a salami. As they drew level with him, his mother came hurrying out of the tent.

"How many times, Kevin? You don't - touch - Daddy's - wand - yecchh! "

She had trodden on the giant slug, which burst. Her scolding carried after them on the still air, mingling with the little boy's yells - "You bust slug! You bust slug!"

A short way farther on, they saw two little witches, barely older than Kevin, who were riding toy broomsticks that rose only high enough for the girls' toes to skim the dewy grass. A Ministry wizard had already spotted them; as he hurried past the seven teens he muttered distractedly, "In broad daylight! Parents having a lie-in, I suppose -"

Here and there adult wizards and witches were emerging from their tents and starting to cook breakfast. Some, with furtive looks around them, conjured fires with their wands; others were striking matches with dubious looks on their faces, as though sure this couldn't work. Three African wizards sat in serious conversation, all of them wearing long white robes and roasting what looked like a rabbit on a bright purple fire, while a group of middle-aged American witches sat gossiping happily beneath a spangled banner stretched between their tents that read: THE SALEM WITCHES' INSTITUTE. Harry caught snatches of conversation in strange languages from the inside of tents they passed, and though he couldn't understand a word, the tone of every single voice was excited.

"Er - is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" said Ron.

It wasn't just Ron's eyes. They had walked into a patch of tents that were all covered with a thick growth of shamrocks, so that it looked as though small, oddly shaped hillocks had sprouted out of the earth. Grinning faces could be seen under those that had their flaps open. James and Draco stayed together ignoring the glares their outfits received. Then, from behind them, they heard three of their names.

"Harry! Ron! Hermione!"

It was Seamus Finnegan, their fellow Gryffindor fourth year. He was sitting in front of his own shamrock-covered tent, with a sandy-haired woman who had to be his mother, and his best friend, Dean Thomas, also of Gryffindor.

"Like the decorations?" said Seamus, grinning. "The Ministry's not too happy. Who are they?"

"Don't recognize me Seamus, I feel insulted." James said and after a look of realization came across his face the two shared a quick hug.

"This is Blaise and Draco." Harry said easily and Seamus looked in shock at Draco, everyone from Gryffindor knew Blaise and James were friends.

"Malfoy? But you guys hate each other!" Seamus said in shock and the seven laughed.

"Yeah, look I want to apologize I was a complete jackass to the Gryffindors and well let's say I had my eyes opened." Draco said and Seamus and Draco shared a firm hand shake in an act of a truce.

"I love what you done with the place." Hermione said with a smile and Seamus went to say something but was beat by his mother.

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colors?" said Mrs. Finnigan. "You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?" she added, eyeing Harry, Ron, Blaise and Hermione beadily. James and Draco puffed up their chest, a competition was sparked and the three shared a glare before the three smirked.

When they had assured her that they were indeed supporting Ireland, they set off again, though, as Ron said, "Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot." To which Draco and James laughed pointing to their own outfits saying in remarkable unison, "We didn't have to say a word."

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?" said Hermione.

"Krum!" The two Bulgarian fan's cheered and the other's laughed at them.

"Let's go and have a look," said Harry, pointing to a large patch of tents upfield, where the Bulgarian flag - white, green, and red - was fluttering in the breeze. The tents here had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. The picture was, of course, moving, but all it did was blink and scowl.

"Krum," said Ron quietly.

"What?" said Hermione.

"Krum!" said James. "Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!"

"He looks really grumpy," said Hermione, looking around at the many Krums blinking and scowling at them.

"Really grumpy?" Draco raised his eyes to the heavens. "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a genius, you wait until tonight, you'll see."

There was already a small queue for the tap in the corner of the field. Harry, Ron, Hermione, James, Blaise, and Draco joined it, right behind a pair of men who were having a heated argument. One of them was a very old wizard who was wearing a long flowery nightgown.

The other was clearly a Ministry wizard; he was holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers and almost crying with exasperation.

"Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious –

"I bought this in a Muggle shop," said the old wizard stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."

"Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.

"I'm not putting them on," said old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

Hermione was overcome with such a strong fit of the giggles at this point that she had to duck out of the queue and only returned when Archie had collected his water and moved away. Walking more slowly now, because of the weight of the water, they made their way back through the campsite. Here and there, they saw more familiar faces: other Hogwarts students with their families. Oliver Wood, the old captain of Harry's and James's House Quidditch team, who had just left Hogwarts, dragged Harry and James over to his parents' tent to introduce them, and told them excitedly that he had just been signed to the Puddlemere United reserve team.

Next they were hailed by Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff fourth year, and a little farther on they saw Cho Chang, a very pretty girl who played Seeker on the Ravenclaw team. She waved and smiled at Harry and down right glared at James who glared back both sharing a sickly sweet smiled.

More to stop Ron from smirking than anything, Harry hurriedly pointed out a large group of teenagers whom he had never seen before.

"Who d'you reckon they are?" he said. "They don't go to Hogwarts, do they?"

"'Spect they go to some foreign school," said Ron. "I know there are others. Never met anyone who went to one, though. Bill had a penfriend at a school in Brazil… this was years and years ago… and he wanted to go on an exchange trip but Mum and Dad couldn't afford it. His penfriend got all offended when he said he wasn't going and sent him a cursed hat. It made his ears shrivel up."

They all shared a laugh until, a boy with a BF badge squealed when he saw James who then drug the embarrassed girl to his parents who seem amused by the whole thing while James's friends laughed so hard they had tears coming out their eyes.

"You've been ages," said George when they finally got back to the Weasleys' tents.

"Met a few people," said Ron, setting the water down and wiping a few tears from his eyes. "You've not got that fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches," said Fred, who then proceeded to snog James who all too willingly snogged him back.

Mr. Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life.

"Oops!" he said as he managed to light a match and promptly dropped it in surprise.

"Come here, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione kindly, taking the box from him, and showing him how to do it properly.

At last they got the fire lit, though it was at least another hour before it was hot enough to cook anything. There was plenty to watch while they waited, however. Their tent seemed to be pitched right alongside a kind of thoroughfare to the field, and Ministry members kept hurrying up and down it, greeting Mr. Weasley cordially as they passed. Mr. Weasley kept up a running commentary.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office… Here comes Gilbert Wimple; he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms; he's had those horns for a while now… Hello, Arnie… Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator - member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know… and that's Bode and Croaker… they're Unspeakables…"

"They're what?"

"From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to…"

At last, the fire was ready, and they had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the woods toward them.

"Just Apparated, Dad," said Percy loudly. "Ah, excellent, lunch!"

They were halfway through their plates of eggs and sausages when Mr. Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward them.

"Aha!" he said. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

Ludo Bagman was easily the most noticeable person James had seen so far, even including old Archie in his flowered nightdress. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal stripes of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest.

"Wow. He really doesn't care about Anti-Muggle security."James stated, raising an eyebrow. "How an idiot like that became head of a department is beyond me."

He had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed; the robes were stretched tightly across a large belly he surely had not had in the days when he had played Quidditch for England. His nose was squashed (probably broken by a stray Bludger, James thought), but his round blue eyes, short blond hair, and rosy complexion made him look like a very overgrown schoolboy.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily. He was walking as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.

"Arthur, Sirius, Remus, old men," he puffed as he reached the campfire, "what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming… and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements… Not much for me to do!"

Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air.

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression.

"Ah - yes," said Mr. Weasley, grinning, "this is my son Percy. He's just started at the Ministry - and this is Fred - no, George, sorry - that's Fred - Bill, Charlie, Ron - my daughter, Ginny and Ron's friends, Hermione Granger, Blaise Zanbani, Draco Malfoy, James Black, and Harry Potter."

Bagman did the smallest of double takes when he heard Harry's name, and his eyes performed the familiar flick upward to the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Everyone," Mr. Weasley continued, "this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets –"

Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" he said eagerly, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow-and-black robes.

"I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first - I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years - and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a weeklong match."

"Oh… go on then," said Mr. Weasley. "Let's see… a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon?" Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself. "Very well, very well… any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," said Mr. Weasley. "Molly wouldn't like -"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," said Fred as he and George quickly pooled all their money, "that Ireland wins - but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll throw in a fake wand."

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that," Percy hissed, but Bagman didn't seem to think the wand was rubbish at all; on the contrary, his boyish face shone with excitement as he took it from Fred, and when the wand gave a loud squawk and turned into a rubber chicken, Bagman roared with laughter.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval.

"Boys," said Mr. Weasley under his breath, "I don't want you betting… That's all your savings… Your mother -"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance… I'll give you excellent odds on that one… We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we…"

Mr. Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.

"Cheers," said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away into the front of his robes.

Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr. Weasley.

"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

"Mr. Crouch?" said Percy, suddenly abandoning his look of poker-stiff disapproval and positively writhing with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll…"

"Anyone can speak Troll," said Fred dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt."

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to the boil.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr. Weasley asked as Bagman settled himself down on the grass beside them all.

The atmosphere in the room became more melancholy at the thought of Bertha, as the group remembered the conversation between Wormtail and the creature that was Voldemort.

"Not a dicky bird," said Bagman comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha… memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh - talk of the devil! Barty!"

A wizard had just Apparated at their fireside, and he could not have made more of a contrast with Ludo Bagman, sprawled on the grass in his old Wasp robes. Barty Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man, dressed in an impeccably crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short gray hair was almost unnaturally straight, and his narrow toothbrush mustache looked as though he trimmed it using a slide rule. His shoes were very highly polished. James could see at once why Percy idolized him. Percy was a great believer in rigidly following rules, and Mr. Crouch had complied with the rule about Muggle dressing so thoroughly that he could have passed for a bank manager; James doubted even Uncle Vernon would have spotted him for what he really was.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barry," said Ludo brightly, patting the ground beside him.

"No thank you, Ludo," said Crouch, and there was a bite of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh is that what they're after?" said Bagman. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr. Crouch!" said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of halfbow that made him look like a hunchback. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," said Mr. Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes - thank you, Weatherby."

"Weatherby!" Sirius choked out in whispers, and James grinned. "He doesn't even know his name!"

Fred and George choked into their own cups. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle.

"Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," said Mr. Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr. Weasley heaved a deep sigh.

"I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artifact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," said Mr. Crouch, accepting a cup from Percy. "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" said Bagman.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," said Mr. Crouch. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve - but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law.

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" said Bagman breezily.

"Fairly," said Mr. Crouch dryly. "Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo….Mr. Black I didn't see you there."

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Crouch." Sirius said with a polite nod of his head.

"This is your daughter I suppose." Mr. Crouch said nodding his head respectfully at James who nodded back.

"Yes, this is James Erica." Sirius said and Mr. Crouch nodded at the name.

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" said Mr. Weasley quickly intervened.

Ludo Bagman looked shocked.

"Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun…Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to took forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

Mr. Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman.

"We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details -"

"Oh details!" said Bagman, waving the word away like a cloud of midges. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts -"

"Oh?" Sirius asked, looking interested. "What's happening at Hogwarts?"

"Well, A-" Bagman was cut off by Mr. Crouch.

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," said Mr. Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

He pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.

"See you all later!" he said. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me - I'm commentating!" He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" said Fred at once. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," said Mr. Weasley, smiling.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Percy stiffly. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh shut up, Weatherby," said Fred causing everyone to snort.

"My father said something about it, the Tri-Wizard Tournament, I think he said." Draco said and the others turned to face him.

"I've read about that!" James and Hermione chimed together causing them to blush as they were laughed at.

"It's a tournament of challenges and schools around the world will be asked to join and submit one champion for their school-"James began.

"It's highly dangerous, at least someone has died in the past, but that was a-" Hermione added.

"Hundred and fifty years ago, surely they'll have made safer challenges-" James continued.

"Dumbledore wouldn't let anything bad happen to his students." Hermione finished and everyone was looking at them in shock.

"What?" They question together and then the others fell into bouts of laughter.

"You guys have spent way too much time with the twins!" Percy howled as the other laughed as the girls joined just figuring out how they had just explained something.

A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere.

Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes - green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria - which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves.

"Been saving my pocket money all summer for this," Ron told Harry as they and Hermione strolled through the salesmen, buying souvenirs. Though Ron purchased a dancing shamrock hat and a large green rosette, he also bought a small figure of Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker. The miniature Krum walked backward and forward over Ron's hand, scowling up at the green rosette above him.

"Wow, look at these!" said Harry, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except that they were covered with all sorts of weird knobs and dials.

"Omnioculars," said the saleswizard eagerly. "You can replay action… slow everything down… and they flash up a play-by- play breakdown if you need it. Bargain - ten Galleons each."

"Wish I hadn't bought this now," said Ron, gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.

"Three pairs," said Harry firmly to the wizard.

"No - don't bother," said Ron, going red. He was always touchy about the fact that Harry, who had inherited a small fortune from his parents, had much more money than he did.

"You won't be getting anything for Christmas," Harry told him, thrusting Omnioculars into his and Hermione's hands. "For about ten years, mind."

"Fair enough," said Ron, grinning.

"Oooh, thanks, Harry," said Hermione. "And I'll get us some programs, look -"

Their money bags considerably lighter, they went back to the tents. Bill, Charlie, and Ginny were all sporting green rosettes too, and Mr. Weasley was carrying an Irish flag. Fred and George had green rosettes too, from James who had the Bulgaria Flag with Draco and Omnioculars were around their necks including Blaise's who had a green rosette to.

And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.

"It's time!" said Mr. Weasley, looking as excited as any of them. "Come on, let's go!"

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So, how did you like it?

Was it good? Bad? Too much?

Well review please!

KrisxCross out!~


	6. Chapter 6

Here is the sixth chapter! Enjoy! =)

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Clutching their purchases, Mr. Weasley in the lead, they all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious; James couldn't stop grinning.

They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, talking and joking loudly, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though James could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, he could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it.

"Seats a hundred thousand," said Mr. Weasley, spotting the awestruck look on all of their faces. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again… bless them," he added fondly, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, Sirius, Remus, and as high as you can go."

The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. Mr. Weasley's, Sirius's, and Remus's party kept climbing, and at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and James, filing into the front seats with the Weasleys, looked down upon a scene the likes of which she could never have imagined.

A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at James's eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant's hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again; watching it, James saw that it was flashing advertisements across the field.

The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family - safe, reliable, and with Built-in Anti-Burgler Buzzer… Mrs. Shower's All Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain!… Gladrags Wizardwear - London, Paris, Hogsmeade…

James tore her eyes away from the sign and looked over her shoulder to see who else was sharing the box with them. So far it was empty, except for a tiny creature sitting in the second from last seat at the end of the row behind them. The creature, whose legs were so short they stuck out in front of it on the chair, was wearing a tea towel draped like a toga, and it had its face hidden in its hands. Yet those long, batlike ears were oddly familiar…

"Dobby?" said Harry incredulously.

The tiny creature looked up and stretched its fingers, revealing enormous brown eyes and a nose the exact size and shape of a large tomato. It wasn't Dobby – it was, however, unmistakably a house-elf, as Harry's friend Dobby had been. Harry had set Dobby free from his old owners, the Malfoy family.

"Did sir just call me Dobby?" squeaked the elf curiously from between its fingers. Its voice was higher even than Dobby's had been, a teeny, quivering squeak of a voice, and Harry suspected though it was very hard to tell with a house-elf – that this one might just be female. Ron and Hermione spun around in their seats to look. Though they had heard a lot about Dobby from Harry, they had never actually met him. Even Mr. Weasley looked around in interest.

"Sorry," Harry told the elf, "I just thought you were someone I knew."

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" squeaked the elf.

She was shielding her face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Winky, sir - and you, sir -" Her dark brown eyes widened to the size of side plates as they rested upon Harry's scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry.

"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" she said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck.

"How is he?" said Harry. "How's freedom suiting him?"

"Ah, sir," said Winky, shaking her head, "ah sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free."

"Why?" said Harry, taken aback. "What's wrong with him?"

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir," said Winky sadly. "Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."

"Why not?" said Harry.

Winky lowered her voice by a half-octave and whispered, "He is wanting paying for his work, sir."

"Paying?" said Harry blankly. "Well - why shouldn't he be paid?"

Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again.

"House-elves is not paid, sir!" she said in a muffled squeak. "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."

"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," said Harry.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," said Winky firmly, from behind her hands. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter" - she glanced toward the edge of the box and gulped - "but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."

"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" said Harry, frowning.

"Master - master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy," said Winky, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf."

She gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again. Harry turned back to the others.

"Winky, you can tell Dobby, that he has a paid spot at the Black's house if he wants it." Sirius said with a light smile on his face and James nodded eagerly.

"I shall tell Dobby, Mister Black sir!" Winky said with a slight smile.

"So that's a house-elf?" Ron muttered. "Weird things, aren't they?"

"Dobby was weirder," said Harry fervently.

Ron pulled out his Omnioculars and started testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium.

"Wild!" he said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. "I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again… and again… and again…"

Hermione, meanwhile, was skimming eagerly through her velvet covered, tasseled program.

"'A display from the team mascots will precede the match,'" she read aloud.

"Oh that's always worth watching," said Mr. Weasley. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour. Mr. Weasley kept shaking hands with people who were obviously very important wizards. Percy jumped to his feet so often that he looked as though he were trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered.

Highly embarrassed, he repaired them with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing jealous looks at the Blacks, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like old friends. They had met before, and Fudge shook all their hands in a friendly fashion, asked how they were, and introduced them to the wizards on either side of him.

"Harry Potter, James Black, and Sirius Black, you know," he told the Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English.

"Harry Potter… oh come on now, you know who he is… the boy who survived You-Know-Who… you do know who he is -"

The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.

"Knew we'd get there in the end," said Fudge wearily to Harry. "I'm no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat…Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places… ah, and here's Lucius!"

"Oh joy," Sirius stated, rolling his eyes. "Here's Lucy!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned quickly. Edging along the second row to three still-empty seats right behind Mr. Weasley were none other than Dobby the house-elf's former owners: Lucius Malfoy and a woman Harry supposed must be Draco's mother with tear stained looking eyes. His mother was blonde too; tall and slim, she would have been nice-looking if she hadn't been wearing a look that suggested that she had been crying for days.

"Ah, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk - Obalonsk - Mr. - well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else - you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

It was a tense moment. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy looked at each other and Harry vividly recalled the last time they had come face-to-face: It had been in Flourish and Blotts' bookshop, and they had had a fight. Mr. Malfoy's cold gray eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, and then up and down the row running over James, Draco, Sirius, Remus, and Blaise with narrowed eyes.

"Good lord, Arthur," he said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Fudge, who wasn't listening, said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How - how nice," said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile.

Mr. Malfoy's eyes had returned to Hermione, who went slightly pink, but stared determinedly back at him.

James knew exactly what was making Mr. Malfoy's lip curl like that. The Malfoys prided themselves on being purebloods; in other words, they considered anyone of Muggle descent, like Hermione, second-class.

However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Malfoy didn't dare say anything. He nodded sneeringly to Mr. Weasley and continued down the line to his seats.

"Slimy gits," Sirius muttered as everyone turned to face the field again. Next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.

"Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister - ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge comfortably.

Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they've brought," said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "Veela!"

"What are veel -?"

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry's question was answered for him. Veela were women… the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen…except that they weren't - they couldn't be - human. This puzzled Harry for a moment while he tried to guess what exactly they could be; what could make their skin shine moon-bright like that, or their white-gold hair fan out behind them without wind… but then the music started, and Harry stopped worrying about them not being human - in fact, he stopped worrying about anything at all.

The veela had started to dance, and Harry's mind had gone completely and blissfully blank. All that mattered in the world was that he kept watching the veela, because if they stopped dancing, terrible things would happen.

And as the veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chasing through Harry's dazed mind. He wanted to do something very impressive, right now. Jumping from the box into the stadium seemed a good idea… but would it be good enough?

"Harry, what are you doing?" said Hermione's voice from a long way off.

The music stopped. Harry blinked. He was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard.

Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. Harry was with them; he would, of course, be supporting Bulgaria, and he wondered vaguely why he had a large green shamrock pinned to his chest. Ron, meanwhile, was absentmindedly shredding the shamrocks on his hat. Mr. Weasley, smiling slightly, leaned over to Ron and tugged the hat out of his hands.

James on the other hand seemed amused as Fred had quickly hidden his into James's neck at the sight of the Veela.

"You'll be wanting that," he said, "once Ireland have had their say."

"Huh?" said Ron, staring openmouthed at the veela, who had now lined up along one side of the field.

Hermione made a loud tutting noise. She reached up and pulled Harry back into his seat. "Honestly!" she said.

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air… for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it –

"Excellent!" yelled Ron as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, Harry realized that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" said Mr. Weasley over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

"There you go," Ron yelled happily, stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand, "for the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!"

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you – Dimitrov!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!"

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!"

"That's him, that's him!" yelled James, following Krum with her Omnioculars. Harry quickly focused his own.

Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

"And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand - Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field; James spun a small dial on the side of her Omnioculars and slowed the players down enough to read the word "Firebolt" on each of their brooms and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a mustache to rival Uncle Vernon's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the mustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other.

James spun the speed dial on her Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and (James saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch.

With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

It was Quidditch as James had never seen it played before. She was pressing her Omnioculars so hard to her face that they were cutting into the bridge of her nose. The speed of the players was incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names.

James spun the slow dial on the right of her Omnioculars again, pressed the play by- play button on the top, and she was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of the crowd pounded against his eardrums.

HAWKSHEAD ATTACKING FORMATION, he read as he watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. PORSKOFF PLOY flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it - "TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland!"

"What?" Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars. "But Levski's got the Quaffle!"

"Harry, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!" shouted Hermione, who was dancing up and down, waving her arms in the air while Troy did a lap of honour around the field.

Harry looked quickly over the top of his Omnioculars and saw that the leprechauns watching from the sidelines had all risen into the air again and formed the great, glittering shamrock. Across the field, the veela were watching them sulkily.

Furious with himself, Harry spun his speed dial back to normal as play resumed.

James knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another's minds as they positioned themselves, and the rosette on Harry's chest kept squeaking their names: "Troy - Mullet - Mo ran!" And within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the greenclad supporters.

The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.

"Fingers in your ears!" bellowed Mr. Weasley as the veela started to dance in celebration. Harry screwed up his eyes too; he wanted to keep his mind on the game.

After a few seconds, he chanced a glance at the field. The veela had stopped dancing, and Bulgaria was again in possession of the Quaffle.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova - oh I say!" roared Bagman. One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the center of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. Harry followed their descent through his Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was –

"They're going to crash!" screamed Hermione next to Harry.

She was half right - at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.

"GO KRUM! OH YEAH THAT WAS AWESOME!" James cheered and for a split second even though Fred would never admit it as he was a jealous man, he swore he saw Krum glance at James and look away with a slight blush.

"Fool!" moaned Mr. Weasley. "Krum was feinting!"

"It's time-out!" yelled Bagman's voice, "as trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"He'll be okay, he only got ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course…"

James hastily pressed the replay and play-by-play buttons on her Omnioculars, twiddled the speed dial, and put them back up to her eyes. She watched as Krum and Lynch dived again in slow motion. WRONSKI DEFENSIVE FEINT - DANGEROUS SEEKER DIVERSION read the shining purple lettering across her lenses. She saw Krum's face contorted with concentration as he pulled out of the dive just in time, while Lynch was flattened, and she understood - Krum hadn't seen the Snitch at all, he was just making Lynch copy him. James had never seen anyone fly like that; Krum hardly looked as though he was using a broomstick at all; he moved so easily through the air that he looked unsupported and weightless. James turned her Omnioculars back to normal and focused them on Krum. He was now circling high above Lynch, who was being revived by mediwizards with cups of potion. James, focusing still more closely upon Krum's face, saw his dark eyes darting all over the ground a hundred feet below. He was using the time while Lynch was revived to look for the Snitch without interference.

Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything James had seen so far.

"So now it gets serious." Fred noted, nodding his head.

"Of course." James grinned.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals.

They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier. As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Harry didn't catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa's long, shrill whistle blast, told him it had been a foul.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing — excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And - yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words "HA, HA, HA!" The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again.

As one, the Weasley boys and Harry stuffed their fingers into their ears, but Hermione, who hadn't bothered, was soon tugging on Harry's arm. He turned to look at her, and she pulled his fingers impatiently out of his ears.

"Look at the referee!" she said, giggling.

James looked down at the field. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.

"Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; James, watching through the Omnioculars again, saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" said Bagman's voice. "Now there's something we haven't seen before… Oh this could turn nasty…"

It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words "HEE, HEE, HEE." Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

"Two penalties for Ireland!" shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms… yes… there they go… and Troy takes the Quaffle."

Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

"Foul!" roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green. "Foul!" echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran - deliberately flying to collide there - and it's got to be another penalty - yes, there's the whistle!"

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the veela across the field. Then a pop was heard near them and a little Leprechaun was in front of James and flipping her off as well before popping away. In James's defense she acted accordingly, shrieking and jumping into Fred's arms, the big screen had played the scene and laughter from the Irish and screams of outrage from the Bulgarians rained.

At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through his Omnioculars, James saw that they didn't look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruelbeaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders -

"And that, boys," yelled Mr. Weasley over the tumult of the crowd below, "is why you should never go for looks alone!"

"Sure, but don't alone just go for the silent types either!" Sirius howled with laughter.

Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. James turned this way and that, staring through her Omnioculars, as the Quaffie changed hands with the speed of a bullet, Fred just had a smirk on his face, as James had not moved from her seat on his lap.

"Levski - Dimitrov - Moran - Troy - Mullet - Ivanova - Moran again - Moran - MORAN SCORES!"

But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians.

The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov - The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face.

There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle. He had become distracted, and Harry couldn't blame him; one of the veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight.

Harry wanted someone to realize that Krum was injured; even though he was supporting Ireland, Krum was the most exciting player on the field. Ron obviously felt the same.

"Time-out! Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him -"

"Look at Lynch!" Harry yelled.

For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and Harry was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing…

"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!" Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on… but Krum was on his tail. How he could see where he was going, Harry had no idea;there were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again -

"They're going to crash!" shrieked Hermione.

"They're not!" roared Ron.

"Lynch is!" yelled James.

And he was right - for the second time, Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela.

"Ouch."

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" bellowed Charlie, along the row.

"He's got it - Krum's got it - it's all over!" shouted James, jumping up and down bringing Fred with her as she screamed.

Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"YOU DID IT, YOU TWO ARE BLOODY SEERS!" James cheered bringing Fred into a snog that Fred quickly returned.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match.

"KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WINS — good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron bellowed, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up!" James shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly after breaking for air from Fred, who looked dazed. "The Irish Chasers were too good… He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all…

"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess…"

James put her Omnioculars to his eyes again. It was hard to see what was happening below, because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but she could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots.

Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind Harry. He looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic.

"You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Veil, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honor, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" roared Bagman.

Harry's eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting toward the entrance, he saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that he'd been using sign language all day for nothing.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.

And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively; Harry could see thousands and thousands of Omniocular lenses flashing and winking in their direction.

One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch. Harry noticed that he seemed much less coordinated on the ground. He was slightly duck-footed and distinctly round-shouldered. But when Krum's name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, earsplitting roar.

And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. Harry's hands were numb with clapping.

At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honor on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Confolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, "Quietus."

"That was awesome." James grinned.

"They'll be talking about this one for years," he said hoarsely, "a really unexpected twist, that… shame it couldn't have lasted longer… Ah yes… yes, I owe you… how much?"

For Fred and George had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman with broad grins on their faces, their hands outstretched.

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KrisxCross out!~


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN!

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"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr. Weasley implored Fred and George as they all made their way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Dad," said Fred gleefully an arm around James, "we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated."

Mr. Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.

They were soon caught up in the crowds now flooding out of the stadium and back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne toward them on the night air as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path, and leprechauns kept shooting over their heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. James herself was soon flung from the group and almost fell if she hadn't of been caught by someone very bigger than her. Looking up she was in shock to see she had been caught by Viktor Krum. Smiling widely she got his autograph on her neck and raced off with a wave towards the sea of red that she had spotted. When they finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around them, Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in. They were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and James was bragging showing off the name on her neck to Ron who was red with jealousy. It was only when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley called a halt to the verbal replays and insisted that everyone go to bed.

The Black quickly left to their tents respectively and feel asleep very fast.

From the other side of the campsite they could still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang.

"Oh I am glad I'm not on duty," muttered Mr. Weasley sleepily. "I wouldn't fancy having to go and tell the Irish they've got to stop celebrating."

Harry, who was on a top bunk above Blaise, lay staring up at the canvas ceiling of the tent,watching the glow of an occasional leprechaun lantern flying overhead, and picturing again some of Krum's more spectacular moves. He was itching to get back on his own Firebolt and try out the Wronski Feint…

Somehow Oliver Wood had never managed to convey with all his wriggling diagrams what that move was supposed to look like… Harry saw himself in robes that had his name on the back, and imagined the sensation of hearing a hundred-thousand-strong crowd roar, as Ludo Bagman's voice echoed throughout the stadium, "I give you… Potter!"

Harry never knew whether or not he had actually dropped off to sleep – his fantasies of flying like Krum might well have slipped into actual dreams - all he knew was that, quite suddenly, Sirius and Remus were shouting.

"Get up! Blaise - Harry - come on now, get up, this is urgent!"

Harry sat up quickly and the top of his head hit the canvas.

"S' matter?" James said walking out in her pajamas and if it wasn't a serious moment Sirius would force her to change.

Dimly, she could tell that something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. She could hear screams, and the sound of people running. She slipped down from the bunk and reached for her clothes, but Sirius, who had pulled on his jeans over his own pajamas, said, "No time, James - just grab a jacket and get outside - quickly!"

James did as she was told and hurried out of the tent, Draco at her heels. By the light of the few fires that were still burning,s he could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire.

Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene. A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field. James squinted at them… They didn't seem to have faces… Then she realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked.

High above them, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air.

"I don't like this..." Remus said quietly, and Sirius's grip on James and Draco as he stared at the scene had become vice-like. Two of the figures were very small. More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice James saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder.

The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and Harry recognized one of them: Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children.

"Dear Merlin..." Remus muttered, looking as pale and shocked as the others did. "That's-"

"Sick." Sirius interrupted, staring at the scene in disgust. "Really sick."

One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.

"That's sick," Ron muttered as the Weasley's and Hermione came towards their camp, watching the smallest Muggle child, who had begun to spin like a top, sixty feet above the ground, his head flopping limply from side to side. "That is really sick…"

"We're going to help the Ministry!" Mr. Weasley shouted over all the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. "You lot - get into the woods, and stick together. I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!"

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were already sprinting away toward the oncoming marchers; Mr. Weasley tore after them. Ministry wizards were dashing from every direction toward the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer.

"C'mon," said Fred, grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pull her toward the wood. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, Blaise, James, and George followed. They all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; they could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.

James who was shaking violently had enough when the smallest child started to cry wailing loudly, he looked to be only five.

"ACIO, SON!" James hissed and they watched in awe as the child seemed to jolt before flying towards James who caught the small boy in her arms and soon Fred and George joined her getting the other child and his wife, while Hermione got Mr. Roberts, taking the family with them as they ran.

The colored lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air.

Harry felt himself being pushed hither and thither by people whose faces he could not see. Then he heard Ron yell with pain.

"What happened?" said Hermione anxiously, stopping so abruptly that Harry walked into her. "Ron, where are you? Oh this is stupid – lumos!"

She illuminated her wand and directed its narrow beam across the path. Ron was lying sprawled on the ground.

"Tripped over a tree root," he said angrily, getting to his feet again.

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to," said a drawling voice from behind them.

Harry, Ron, James, Draco, Blaise and Hermione turned sharply. Theodore Nott was standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed.

His arms folded, he seemed to have been watching the scene at the campsite through a gap in the trees. Ron told Nott to do something that Harry knew he would never have dared say in front of Mrs. Weasley.

"Language, Weasley," said Nott, his pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?"

He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around them.

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Hermione defiantly.

"Granger, they're after Muggles," said Nott. "D'you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around… they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

"Hermione isn't a muggle." Blaise said sharply. "I really dislike jackasses Nott."

"Hermione's a witch," Harry snarled.

"Have it your own way, Potter," said Nott, grinning maliciously. "If you think they can't spot a M-Mudblood, stay where you are."

"You watch your mouth!" shouted James. Everybody present knew that "Mudblood" was a very offensive term for a witch or wizard of Muggle parentage.

"Never mind, James," said Hermione quickly, seizing Ron's arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Nott, only to watch in shock as Draco smashed his fist into Nott's face causing him to fall to the ground with a bleeding nose. There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard several people nearby screamed. Nott chuckled softly.

"Scare easily, don't they?" he said lazily wiping the blood off his face. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to - trying to rescue the Muggles?"

"Where're your parents?" said Harry, his temper rising. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"

Nott turned his face to Harry, still smiling.

"Well… if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?"

"Oh come on," said Hermione, with a disgusted look at Nott, "let's go and find the others."

"Keep that big bushy head down, Granger," sneered Nott.

"Fuck off, Nott, your parents aren't the only ones out there." Draco sneered at him.

"Yeah, but Daddy and Mummy aren't too happy with you are they eh, Draco?" Nott said with a smirk.

"Doesn't matter, my dad's out there too, you know." James sneered and then blanched in disgust as Nott gave her a once over.

"Might want to hide to Black, don't want to see firsthand what death eaters do to half naked pretty girls do you?" Nott said with a lecherous grin and Blaise slammed his fist into the side of his head causing him to become unconscious.

"Over my dead body." Blaise said and Draco nodded.

"Come on," Hermione repeated, and she pulled Harry and Ron up the path again the other three being like body guards wands out and looking everywhere.

"Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!" said Hermione fervently. "Oh I can't believe this. Where have the others got to?"

Fred, George, Ginny, and the Roberts family were nowhere to be seen, though the path was packed with plenty of other people, all looking nervously over their shoulders toward the commotion back at the campsite. A huddle of teenagers in pajamas was arguing vociferously a little way along the path. When they saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione, a girl with thick curly hair turned and said quickly,

"Oü est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue -"

"Er - what?" said Ron.

"Oh…" The girl who had spoken turned her back on him, and as they walked on they distinctly heard her say, "Ogwarts."

"Beauxbatons," muttered Hermione.

"Sorry?" said Harry.

"They must go to Beauxbatons," said Hermione. "You know… Beauxbatons Academy of Magic… I read about it in An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe."

"Oh… yeah… right," said Harry.

"Fred and George can't have gone that far," said Ron, pulling out his wand, lighting it like Hermione's, and squinting up the path. Harry dug in the pockets of his jacket for his own wand, lighting it as well.

A rustling noise nearby made all three of them jump. Winky the house-elf was fighting her way out of a clump of bushes nearby. She was moving in a most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty; it was as though someone invisible were trying to hold her back.

"There is bad wizards about!" she squeaked distractedly as she leaned forward and laboured to keep running. "People high - high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!"

And she disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.

"What's up with her?" said Ron, looking curiously after Winky. "Why can't she run properly?"

"Bet she didn't ask permission to hide," said Harry. He was thinking of Dobby: Every time he had tried to do something the Malfoys wouldn't like, the house-elf had been forced to start beating himself up.

"You know, house-elves get a very raw deal!" said Hermione indignantly. "It's slavery, that's what it is! That Mr. Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn't anyone do something about it?"

"Well, the elves are happy, aren't they?" Ron said. "You heard old Winky back at the match… 'House-elves is not supposed to have fun'… that's what she likes, being bossed around…"

"It's people like you, Ron," Hermione began hotly, "who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to -"

Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.

"Let's just keep moving, shall we?" said Ron, and James saw him glance edgily at Hermione. There was truth in what Nott had said; perhaps Hermione was in more danger than they were.

They set off again. They followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keeping an eye out for Fred, George, and Ginny. They passed a group of goblins who were cackling over a sack of gold that they had undoubtedly won betting on the match, and who seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble at the campsite. Farther still along the path, they walked into a patch of silvery light, and when they looked through the trees, they saw three tall and beautiful veela standing in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young wizards, all of whom were talking very loudly.

"I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year!" one of them shouted. "I'm a dragon killer for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."

"No, you're not!" yelled his friend. "You're a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron… but I'm a vampire hunter, I've killed about ninety so far -"

A third young wizard, whose pimples were visible even by the dim, silvery light of the veela, now cut in, "I'm about to become the youngest ever Minister of Magic, I am."

James snorted with laughter. She recognized the pimply wizard: His name was Stan Shunpike, and he was in fact a conductor on the triple-decker Knight Bus. She turned to tell Ron this, but Ron's face had gone oddly slack, and next second Ron was yelling, "Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach Jupiter?"

"Honestly!" said Hermione, and she and Harry grabbed Ron firmly by the arms, wheeled him around, and marched him away. By the time the sounds of the veela and their admirers had faded completely, they were in the very heart of the wood. They seemed to be alone now; everything was much quieter.

James looked around. "I reckon we can just wait here, you know. We'll hear anyone coming a mile off."

The words were hardly out of her mouth, when Ludo Bagman emerged from behind a tree right ahead of them.

Even by the feeble light of the three wands, James could see that a great change had come over Bagman. He no longer looked buoyant and rosy-faced; there was no more spring in his step. He looked very white and strained.

"Who's that?" he said, blinking down at them, trying to make out their faces. "What are you doing in here, all alone?"

They looked at one another, surprised.

"Well - there's a sort of riot going on," said Ron.

Bagman stared at him.

"What?"

"At the campsite… some people have got hold of a family of Muggles…"

Bagman swore loudly.

"Damn them!" he said, looking quite distracted, and without another word, he Disapparated with a small pop!

"Not exactly on top of things, Mr. Bagman, is he?" said Hermione, frowning.

"He was a great Beater, though," said Ron, leading the way off the path into a small clearing, and sitting down on a patch of dry grass at the foot of a tree. "The Wimbourne Wasps won the league three times in a row while he was with them."

He took his small figure of Krum out of his pocket, set it down on the ground, and watched it walk around. Like the real Krum, the model was slightly duck-footed and round-shouldered, much less impressive on his splayed feet than on his broomstick. Harry was listening for noise from the campsite. Everything seemed much quieter; perhaps the riot was over.

"I hope the others are okay," said Hermione after a while.

"They'll be fine," said Ron.

"Imagine if your dad catches Lucius Malfoy," said Harry, sitting down next to Ron and watching the small figure of Krum slouching over the fallen leaves. "He's always said he'd like to get something on him."

"Get what he'd deserve." Draco snarled with his eyes scanning the trees looking for anything.

"Damn straight." Blaise added.

"Good on Mr. Weasley if he does." James said.

"Those poor Muggles, though," said Hermione nervously. "If James hadn't of acted…"

"They'll be fine," said Ron reassuringly. "James, is only a fourth year, their grown wizards they would have got them down."

"Mad, though, to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic's out here tonight!" said Hermione. "I mean, how do they expect to get away with it? Do you think they've been drinking, or are they just -"

But she broke off abruptly and looked over her shoulder. Harry, Draco, Blaise, James, and Ron looked quickly around too. It sounded as though someone was staggering toward their clearing. They waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.

"Hello?" called Harry.

There was silence. Harry got to his feet and peered around the tree. It was too dark to see very far, but he could sense somebody standing just beyond the range of his vision.

"Who's there?" he said.

And then, without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any they had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panicked shout, but what sounded like a spell.

"MORSMORDRE!"

And something vast, green, and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness James's eyes had been struggling to penetrate; it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.

"What the -?" gasped Ron as he sprang to his feet again, staring up at the thing that had appeared.

For a split second, James thought it was another leprechaun formation. Then she realized that it was a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue.

As they watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation.

Suddenly, the wood all around them erupted with screams. James didn't understand why, but the only possible cause was the sudden appearance of the skull, which had now risen high enough to illuminate the entire wood like some grisly neon sign.

He scanned the darkness for the person who had conjured the skull, but he couldn't see anyone.

"Harry, come on, move!" James had seized the collar of his jacket and was tugging him backward.

"What's the matter?" Harry said, startled to see her face so white and terrified.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry!" James moaned, pulling him as hard as she could. "Voldemort's sign!"

"Voldemort's - "Harry, come on!"

Harry turned - Ron was hurriedly scooping up his miniature Krum - the six of them started across the clearing - but before they had taken a few hurried steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.

James whirled around, and in an instant, she registered one fact: Each of these wizards had his wand out, and every wand was pointing right at himself, James, Draco, Blaise, Ron, and Hermione.

Without pausing to think, Draco, James, and Blaise yelled, "DUCK!"

They seized the other three and pulled them down onto the ground.

"STUPEFY!" roared twenty voices - there was a blinding series of flashes and James felt the hair on her head ripple as though a powerful wind had swept the clearing. Raising her head a fraction of an inch she saw jets of fiery red light flying over them from the wizards' wands, crossing one another, bouncing off tree trunks, rebounding into the darkness—

"Stop!" yelled a voice she recognized. "STOP! That's my Daughter!"

"THAT'S MY SON!" yelled another man.

James's hair stopped blowing about. She raised her head a little higher. The wizard in front of her had lowered his wand. She rolled over and saw Mr. Weasley, Sirius, and Remus striding toward them, looking terrified.

"Ron – Harry- Draco- Blaise" – Mr. Weasley voice sounded shaky - "Hermione – James- are you all right?"

"Out of the way, Arthur," said a cold, curt voice.

It was Mr. Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on them. James got to her feet to face them. Mr. Crouch's face was taut with rage.

"Which of you did it?" he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

"Are you kidding me?" Remus asked in disbelief. "Are you accusing six fourteen year olds of conjuring up the Dark Mark? A spell known only by Death Eaters?"

"We didn't do that!" said James, gesturing up at the skull.

"We didn't do anything!" said Ron, who was rubbing his elbow and looking indignantly at his father. "What did you want to attack us for?"

"Do not lie, sir!" shouted Mr. Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping - he looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Barty," whispered a witch in a long woolen dressing gown, "they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to."

"Where did the Mark come from, you six?" said Mr. Weasley quickly.

"Over there," said Draco shakily, pointing at the place where they had heard the voice. "There was someone behind the trees… they shouted words – an incantation -"

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" said Mr. Crouch, turning his popping eyes on Draco now, disbelief etched all over his face. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy -"

But none of the Ministry wizards apart from Mr. Crouch seemed to think it remotely likely that Harry, Ron, James, Blaise, Draco, or Hermione had conjured the skull; on the contrary, at Draco's words, they had all raised their wands again and were pointing in the direction she had indicated, squinting through the dark trees.

"We're too late," said the witch in the woolen dressing gown, shaking her head. "They'll have Disapparated."

"I don't think so," said a wizard with a scrubby brown beard. It was Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. "Our Stunners went right through those trees… There's a good chance we got them…"

"Amos, be careful!" said a few of the wizards warningly as Mr. Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing, and disappeared into the darkness. Hermione watched him vanish with her hands over her mouth. A few seconds later, they heard Mr. Diggory shout.

"Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's - but – blimey.."

"You've got someone?" shouted Mr. Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"

They heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mr. Diggory reemerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. James recognized the tea towel at once. It was Winky.

Mr. Crouch did not move or speak as Mr. Diggory deposited his elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring at Mr. Crouch. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.

"This - cannot - be," he said jerkily. "No -"

He moved quickly around Mr. Diggory and strode off toward the place where he had found Winky.

"No point, Mr. Crouch," Mr. Diggory called after him. "There's no one else there."

But Mr. Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. They could hear him moving around and the rustling of leaves as he pushed the bushes aside, searching.

"Bit embarrassing," Mr. Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky's unconscious form. "Barty Crouch's house-elf… I mean to say…"

"Come off it, Amos," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "you don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."

"Yeah," said Mr. Diggory, "and she had a wand."

"She had a wand? But...Where did she get one?" Remus asked, frowning.

"What?" said Mr. Weasley.

"Here, look." Mr. Diggory held up a wand and showed it to Mr. Weasley. "Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken, for a start. No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand."

Just then there was another pop, and Ludo Bagman Apparated right next to Mr. Weasley. Looking breathless and disorientated, he spun on the spot, goggling upward at the emerald-green skull.

"The Dark Mark!" he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned inquiringly to his colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Barty! What's going on?"

Mr. Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush mustache were both twitching.

"Where have you been, Barty?" said Bagman. "Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat too - gulping gargoyles!" Bagman had just noticed Winky lying at his feet. "What happened to her?"

"I have been busy, Ludo," said Mr. Crouch, still talking in the same jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. "And my elf has been stunned."

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why -?"

Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman's round, shiny face; he looked up at the skull, down at Winky, and then at Mr. Crouch.

"No!" he said. "Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand, for a start!"

"Even if she did have a wand, she wouldn't know how." Draco frowned, shaking his head. "Only Death Eaters know the incantation!"

"And she had one," said Mr. Diggory. "I found her holding one, Ludo. If it's all right with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself."

Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Mr. Diggory, but Mr. Diggory seemed to take his silence for assent. He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said, "Ennervate!"

Winky stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position.

She caught sight of Mr. Diggory's feet, and slowly, tremulously, raised her eyes to stare up into his face; then, more slowly still, she looked up into the sky. James could see the floating skull reflected twice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing, and burst into terrified sobs.

"Elf!" said Mr. Diggory sternly. "Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!"

Winky began to rock backward and forward on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts.

James was reminded forcibly of Dobby in his moments of terrified disobedience.

"As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago," said Mr. Diggory. "And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!"

"I - I - I is not doing it, sir!" Winky gasped. "I is not knowing how, sir!"

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" barked Mr. Diggory, brandishing it in front of her. And as the wand caught the green light that was filling the clearing from the skull above, Harry recognized it.

"Hey - that's Ginny's!" he said

Everyone in the clearing looked at him.

"Excuse me?" said Mr. Diggory, incredulously.

"That's Ginny's wand!" said Harry.

"She dropped it?" repeated Mr. Diggory in disbelief. "Is this a confession? You stole it then threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?"

"Diggory, think who you're talking to!" said Sirius very angrily. "Is Harry Potter likely to conjure the Dark Mark?"

"Er - of course not," mumbled Mr. Diggory. "Sorry… carried away…"

"I didn't steal it, anyways," said Harry with a glare.

"So," said Mr. Diggory, his eyes hardening as he turned to look at Winky again, cowering at his feet. "You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?"

"I is not doing magic with it, sir!" squealed Winky, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. "I is… I is… I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!"

"It wasn't her!" said James. She looked very pissed, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all the same.

"Winky's got a squeaky little voice, and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!" She looked around at Harry, Draco, Blaise, Hermione, and Ron, appealing for their support. "It didn't sound anything like Winky, did it?"

"No," said Blaise, shaking his head. "It definitely didn't sound like an elf."

"Yeah, it was a human voice," said Draco.

"Well, we'll soon see," growled Mr. Diggory, looking unimpressed. "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?"

"Your being stupid! Why don't you ask her what the incantation is have Mr. Crouch order her to tell him!"

Winky trembled and shook her head frantically, her ears flapping, as Mr. Diggory ignoring James raised his own wand again and placed it tip to tip with Ginny's.

"Prior Incantato!" roared Mr. Diggory.

Harry heard Hermione gasp, horrified, as a gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above them; it looked as though it were made of thick gray smoke: the ghost of a spell.

"Deletrius!" Mr. Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke.

"So," said Mr. Diggory with a kind of savage triumph, looking down upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively.

"I is not doing it!" she squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. "I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

"You've been caught red-handed, elf!" Mr. Diggory roared. "Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!"

"Amos," said Mr. Weasley loudly, "think about it… precious few wizards know how to do that spell… Where would she have learned it?"

"Perhaps Amos is suggesting," said Mr. Crouch, cold anger in every syllable, "that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?""

"So he speaks." James said coldly. "Finally gotten over the shock."

There was a deeply unpleasant silence. Amos Diggory looked horrified. "Mr. Crouch… not… not at all."

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are least likely to conjure that Mark!" barked Mr. Crouch. "Harry Potter – and myself. I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Amos?"

"Of course - everyone knows -" muttered Mr. Diggory, looking highly discomforted.

"And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?" Mr. Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again.

"Mr. Crouch, I - I never suggested you had anything to do with it!" Amos Diggory muttered again, now reddening behind his scrubby brown beard.

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!" shouted Mr. Crouch. "Where else would she have learned to conjure it?"

"She - she might've picked it up anywhere -"

"Precisely, Amos," said Mr. Weasley. "She might have picked it up anywhere… Winky?" he said kindly, turning to the elf, but she flinched as though he too was shouting at her. "Where exactly did you find Ginny's wand?"

Winky was twisting the hem of her tea towel so violently that it was fraying beneath her fingers.

"I - I is finding it… finding it there, sir…" she whispered, "there… in the trees, sir."

"You see, Amos?" said Mr. Weasley. "Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Ginny's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up."

"But then, she'd have been only a few feet away from the real culprit!" said Mr. Diggory impatiently. "Elf? Did you see anyone?"

Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr. Diggory, to Ludo Bagman, and onto Mr. Crouch. Then she gulped and said, "I is seeing no one, sir… no one…"

"Amos," said Mr. Crouch curtly, "I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her."

Mr. Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but it was clear to James that Mr. Crouch was such an important member of the Ministry that he did not dare refuse him.

"You may rest assured that she will be punished," Mr. Crouch added coldly.

"M-m-master…" Winky stammered, looking up at Mr. Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. "M-m-master, p-p-please…"

Mr. Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze.

"Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible," he said slowly. "I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. This means clothes."

"No!" shrieked Winky, prostrating herself at Mr. Crouch's feet. "No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!"

James knew that the only way to turn a house-elf free was to present it with proper garments. It was pitiful to see the way Winky clutched at her tea towel as she sobbed over Mr. Crouch's feet.

"But she was frightened!" Hermione burst out angrily, glaring at Mr. Crouch. "Your elf's scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!"

Mr. Crouch took a step backward, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she were something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes.

"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," he said coldly, looking over at Hermione. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."

Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing. There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr. Weasley, who said quietly, "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody's got any objections. Amos, that wand's told us all it can - if I could have it back, please -"

Mr. Diggory handed Mr. Weasley the wand and he pocketed it.

"Come on, you six," Mr. Weasley said quietly. But Hermione didn't seem to want to move; her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf. "Hermione!" Mr. Weasley said, more urgently. She turned and followed Harry and Ron out of the clearing and off through the trees. James, Draco, and Blaise were standing with Sirius and Remus watching in disgust before they moved them towards the Weasley's.

"What's going to happen to Winky?" said Hermione, the moment they had left the clearing.

"I don't know," said Mr. Weasley.

"She's gonna be sacked, more than likely never to work somewhere again." Draco said with a disgusted shake of his head.

"The way they were treating her!" said Hermione furiously. "Mr. Diggory, calling her 'elf' all the time… and Mr. Crouch! He knows she didn't do it and he's still going to sack her! He didn't care how frightened she'd been, or how upset she was - it was like she wasn't even human!"

"Well, she's not," said Ron.

Hermione rounded on him.

"That doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron. It's disgusting the way -"

"Hermione, I agree with you," said Mr. Weasley quickly, beckoning her on, "but now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the others?"

"We lost them in the dark," said Ron. "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?"

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," said Mr. Weasley tensely.

But when they reached the edge of the wood, their progress was impeded. A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards was congregated there, and when they saw Mr. Weasley coming toward them, many of them surged forward.

"What's going on in there?"

"Who conjured it?"

"Arthur - it's not - Him?"

"Of course it's not Him," said Mr. Weasley impatiently. "We don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed."

He led the six through the crowd and back into the campsite.

All was quiet now; there was no sign of the masked wizards, though several ruined tents were still smoking.

Charlie's head was poking out of the boys' tent.

"Dad, what's going on?" he called through the dark. "Fred, George, and Ginny got back okay, but the others -"

"I've got them here," said Mr. Weasley, bending down and entering the tent. Harry, Ron, Blaise, Draco, James, and Hermione entered after him.

Bill was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet to his arm, which was bleeding profusely. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose.

Fred, George, and Ginny looked unhurt, though shaken. Fred who was pale sprang forward grabbing James in a death grip and looking her over for injuries when he was satisfied they shared a look before a quick kiss and Fred held her close to his chest.

"Did you get them, Dad?" said Bill sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," said Mr. Weasley. "We found Barty Crouch's elf holding Ginny's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."

"What?" said Bill, Charlie, and Percy together.

"Ginny's wand?" said Fred.

"Mr. Crouch's elf?" said Percy, sounding thunderstruck.

With some assistance from Harry, Ron, Blaise, James, Draco, and Hermione, Mr. Weasley explained what had happened in the woods. When they had finished their story, Percy swelled indignantly.

"Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" he said. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to… embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry… how would that have looked, if she'd been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control"

"She didn't do anything - she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked very taken aback. Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy - better, indeed, than any of the others.

"Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" said Percy pompously, recovering himself.

"She didn't run amok!" shouted Hermione. "She just picked it up off the ground!"

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" said Ron impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone… Why's it such a big deal?"

"I told you, it's Voldemorts's symbol, Ron," said James, before anyone else could answer making everyone flinch slightly. "I read about it in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts."

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," said Mr. Weasley quietly. "Of course people panicked… it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."

"I don't get it," said Ron, frowning. "I mean… it's still only a shape in the sky…"

"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed," said Mr. Weasley. "The terror it inspired… you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside…" Mr. Weasley winced. "Everyone's worst fear… the very worst."

There was silence for a moment. Then Bill, removing the sheet from his arm to check on his cut, said, "Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. Thanks to James, none of the Roberts are very hurt. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Death Eaters?" said Harry. "What are Death Eaters?"

"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," said Bill. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight - the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."

"We can't prove it was them, Bill," said Mr. Weasley. "Though it probably was," he added hopelessly.

"Yeah, I bet it was!" said Ron suddenly. "Dad, we met Theodore Nott in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And he said his dad and Draco's were right in with You-Know-Who!"

"But what were Voldemort's supporters -" Harry began. Everybody flinched – like most of the wizarding world, the Weasleys always avoided saying Voldemort's name. "Sorry," said Harry quickly. "What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"

"The point?" said Mr. Weasley with a hollow laugh. "Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them," he finished disgustedly.

"But if they were the Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?" said Ron. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"

"Use your brains, Ron," said Bill. "If they really were Death Eaters, they worked very hard to keep out of Azkaban when You-Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more frightened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and went back to their daily lives… I don't reckon he'd be over-pleased with them, do you?"

"So… whoever conjured the Dark Mark…" said Hermione slowly, "were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione," said Mr. Weasley. "But I'll tell you this… it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now… Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here."

James got into Fred's bunk with him as he held onto her tightly, head buzzing. She knew she ought to feel exhausted: It was nearly three in the morning, but she felt wide-awake – wide awake, and worried. Fred snuggled closer to her and James not knowing when fell asleep in her worried boyfriend's arms.

Three days ago - it felt like much longer, but it had only been three days - Harry had awoken with his scar burning. And tonight, for the first time in thirteen years, Lord Voldemort's mark had appeared in the sky. What did these things mean?

Harry lay looking up at the canvas, but no flying fantasies came to him now to ease him to sleep, and it was a long time after Charlie's snores filled the tent that Harry finally dozed off.

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So was it okay, bad, terrible, horribly disgusting?

Review please!

KrisxCross out!~


	8. Chapter 8

Hey chapter eight is here!

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Sirius woke them after only a few hours sleep. He used magic to pack up the tents, and they left the campsite as quickly as possible, towards the Weasley's campsite. Fred and George on either side of the five fourth years while Ginny was in between Bill and Charlie, clearly the scare from last night had not died down. Quickly helping the Weasley's pack they left their campsite, passing Mr. Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr. Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved them off with a vague "Happy Christmas."

"He'll be all right," said Remus quietly as they marched off onto the moor. "Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes him a bit disorientated for a while… and that was a big thing they had to make him forget."

"It causes brain damage if used a lot though." James murmured looking quite sadly after Mr. Roberts.

They heard urgent voices as they approached the spot where the Portkeys lay, and when they reached it, they found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all clamoring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. Mr. Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; they joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. They walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole and up the damp lane toward the Burrow in the dawn light, talking very little because they were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of their breakfast. As they rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.

"Molly," Sirius chuckled with Remus.

"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!"

Mrs. Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand.

"Arthur – Sirius - Remus - I've been so worried - so worried-"

She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, Harry saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.

"You're all right," Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, "you're alive… Oh you three…" And to everybody's surprise, she seized James, Fred, and George and pulled them all into such a tight hug that their heads banged together while James was squished in between them.

"Ouch! Mum - you're strangling us – Bloody hell James, elbow!"

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough OW.L.s? Oh Fred… George… James…"

"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," said Mr. Weasley soothingly, prising her off the three and leading her back toward the house. "Bill," he added in an undertone, "pick up that paper, I want to see what it says…"

When they were all crammed into the tiny kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs. Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr. Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr. Weasley scanned the front page while Percy, Remus, and Sirius looked over his shoulder.

"I knew it," said Remus heavily. "Ministry blunders… culprits not apprehended… lax security… Dark wizards running unchecked… national disgrace… Who wrote this? Ah… of course… Rita Skeeter."

"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" said Percy furiously. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans —"

"Do us a favor, Perce," said Blaise, yawning, "and shut up."

"I'm mentioned," said Mr. Weasley, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the Daily Prophet article.

"Where?" spluttered Mrs. Weasley, choking on her tea and whiskey. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name," said Mr. Weasley. "Listen to this: 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.' Oh really," said Mr. Weasley in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy. "Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say? Rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods… well, there certainly will be rumors now she's printed that."

He heaved a deep sigh. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Father," said Percy importantly. "Mr. Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person."

"Merlin forbid Crouch doesn't get his Cauldron bottom report in person!" Draco gasped causing the other kids to snort loudly.

He bustled out of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley looked most upset. "Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office; surely they can handle this without you?"

"I've got to go, Molly," said Mr. Weasley. "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off…"

"Made things worse? She would have just said something about the ministry covering up important details, If you didn't say anything Arthur," Remus frowned.

"You know how it is, I'm just glad they left James and me out of it." Sirius said with a sigh running his fingers absentmindedly through James's hair.

"You and James?" said Mrs. Weasley distractedly. "Yes, your right, Sirius. Leaving you out was probably because how many people are on your side since it came out your innocent."

Fred pulled James to him and George as they were near the stairs.

"Help us with our homework, love?" Fred asked with a twinkle in his eyes, that James knew meant he wanted something else.

"Sure," she said quietly, and the three of them marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"What's up, Love?" said James, the moment they had closed the door of the attic room behind them.

"We need to get back to work on the shop," George said. "We would do it ourselves but Fred and I just can't leave you out of our sight right now. After last night."

James got tearful eyed before bringing the two into a hug they returned, Fred was her love but George was her brother.

"Let's get to work then, the order forms aren't going to write themselves." James said as she let them go and sitting on the bed she got their supplies to work with. The door opened soon and the others entered, watching as the three worked on papers.

"James, you haven't eaten in a while," Hermione said. "Let's go downstairs and get some food for you."

"Yeah, you didn't eat anything but a bit of lunch yesterday," said Blaise worriedly. "Just go eat something."

Rolling her eyes James got up and went downstairs with Hermione into the kitchen. The adults were all in their seats talking but James paid them little mind getting a pot and started cooking some beef stew, getting Kreacher to bring the ingredients from the Black's house. Soon the other Weasley's and guest walked in because of the smell. Mrs. Weasley look horrified that she let James, a guest, cook food for people. Fred just gazed dreamily at James, his mind on the future, an older James in the kitchen cooking for him. Harry just walked over and helped James who took things absentmindedly from him.

"We cooked for the Dursley's." said Harry, seeing the looks he got. "It's weird, isn't it…? James and I love to cook, but at the same time it reminds us of them."

"Don't talk about those excuses for living creatures!" Ron hissed through gritted teeth, everyone nodding along.

"Need's this." Harry went on, ignoring Ron and handing James the pepper. "Maybe some of these."

"It smells really good," Ron moaned sitting at the table.

Harry shot Ron a look.

"Oh Harry, you do know already about Ron's stomach being a black hole."

"True," said Harry. "Should be done soon, anyway."

James ignored them as she stirred the stew softly adding a bit of milk into the watery broth watching it thicken with the added milk.

There was a silence in which Ron fidgeted absentmindedly with a hole in his Chudley Cannons shirt.

"Ron's not the only one hungry." Draco said sitting down with Blaise. "Two minutes James?"

"Mmmm…," said James, buttering bread while looking for bowls and spoons. "Just let it simmer a bit."

"Thank Merilin," said Ron, his expression clearing. "I'm starving!"

"Why do you insist I cook, when your cooking smells like this,'' Sirius smiled.

"Just a break, James hasn't eaten since Lunch yesterday. She's small enough already, she needs to eat." said Harry.

"Yeah, she sent me treat's sometime in the letters." said Charlie amusedly. "Got's the whole gang thinking I have a little lass at home waiting for me."

"Too bad, she's mine," said Fred, sticking his tongue out at his brother who raised an eyebrow as if to say "for now she is."

"Done." said James fixing bowls and handing them out before sitting with her own and eating, the others quickly let out noises of praise.

"This is really good dear." Mrs. Weasley said with a warm smile.

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley." James said dipping some of the bread into her soup, the other's tried and smiled at how good it tasted.

"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy told them importantly the Sunday evening before they were due to return to Hogwarts. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."

"Why are they all sending Howlers?" asked Ginny, who was mending her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi with Spellotape on the rug in front of the living room fire.

"Complaining about security at the World Cup," said Percy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."

"Good ole dung, always trying to get past the ministry," Remus chuckled.

Mrs. Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. James liked this clock. It was completely useless if you wanted to know the time, but otherwise very informative. It had nine golden hands, and each of them was engraved with one of the Weasley family's names. She knew when she had a family she would have one just like it.

There were no numerals around the face, but descriptions of where each family member might be. "Home," "school," and "work" were there, but there was also "traveling," "lost," "hospital," "prison," and, in the position where the number twelve would be on a normal clock, "mortal peril."

Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the "home" position, but Mr. Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing to "work." Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You- Know-Who," she said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."

"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Percy. "If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first -"

"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" said Mrs. Weasley, flaring up at once.

"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," said Bill, who was playing chess with Ron.

"Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts' Charm Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"

"Well, it is a bit long, dear," said Mrs. Weasley gently. "If you'd just let me -"

"No, Mum."

The kids all laughed at the normal banter.

Rain lashed against the living room window. Hermione was immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mrs. Weasley had bought for her, Harry, and Ron in Diagon Alley.

Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt, the broomstick servicing kit Hermione had given him for his thirteenth birthday open at his feet. James, Fred, and George were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers, their heads bent over a piece of parchment.

"What are you three up to?" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, her eyes on the twins.

"Homework," said Fred vaguely.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Yeah, we've left it a bit late," said George.

"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mrs. Weasley shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"

"Now, Mum," said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George, James, and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again.

Mr. Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from "work" to "traveling"; a second later it had shuddered to a halt on "home" with the others, and they heard him calling from the kitchen.

"Coming, Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying out of the room. A few moments later, Mr. Weasley came into the warm living room carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted.

"Well, the fat's really in the fire now," he told Mrs. Weasley as he sat down in an armchair near the hearth and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shriveled cauliflower. "Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."

"Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," said Percy swiftly.

"That sounds very suspicious." James said and Percy glared at her.

"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," said Mr. Weasley irritably. "There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."

"I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure the Mark?" said Percy hotly.

"If you ask me, Mr. Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!" said Hermione angrily.

"Now look here, Hermione!" said Percy. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants -"

"His slave, you mean!" said Hermione, her voice rising passionately, "because he didn't pay Winky, did he?"

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" said Mrs. Weasley, breaking up the argument, or trying to. "Come on now, all of you…"

"No, I'm sick of Percy kissing Mr. Crouch's arse!" Hermione snapped glaring and everyone looked at Hermione in disbeif, besides James and Percy, one was on the floor laughing with tears while the other was spluttering.

"I second that, he's a human too. He makes mistakes Percy…and your starting to act very prejudice. Don't think I haven't noticed." James gasped getting her composure her eyes darting to the large space Percy had put between himself and Remus. Soon Mrs. Weasley broke up the fight shooing everyone to their rooms as she cleaned the kitchen.

Harry repacked his broomstick servicing kit, put his Firebolt over his shoulder, and went back upstairs with Ron, the Twins, James, Draco, Hermione, and Blaise. The rain sounded even louder at the top of the house, accompanied by loud whistling and moans from the wind, not to mention sporadic howls from the ghoul who lived in the attic. Pigwidgeon began twittering and zooming around his cage when they entered. The sight of the half-packed trunks seemed to have sent him into a frenzy of excitement.

"Bung him some Owl Treats," said Ron, throwing a packet across to Draco. "It might shut him up."

Draco poked a few Owl Treats through the bars of Pigwidgeon's cage, then turned to his trunk.

"We'll be going to Hogwarts soon," Harry said, looking at Hedwig's deserted perch. "We'll be friends still right?"

"Of course, hate to say this but James has us whipped even worse than Fred," said Ron. "She'll have our heads if we went back to normal there."

"Yeah, I suppose…"

"Look, here's the stuff Mum got for you in Diagon Alley. And she's got some gold out of your vault for you… and she's washed all your socks."

He heaved a pile of parcels onto Harry's camp bed and dropped the money bag and a load of socks next to it. Harry started unwrapping the shopping. Apart from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, by Miranda Goshawk, he had a handful of new quills, a dozen rolls of parchment, and refills for his potion-making kit - he had been running low on spine of lionfish and essence of belladonna. He was just piling underwear into his cauldron when Ron made a loud noise of disgust behind him.

"What is that supposed to be?"

He was holding up something that looked to everyone like a long, maroon velvet dress. It had a moldy-looking lace frill at the collar and matching lace cuffs.

There was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Weasley entered, carrying an armful of freshly laundered Hogwarts robes.

"Here you are," she said, sorting them into four piles. "Now, mind you pack them properly so they don't crease."

"Mum, you've given me Ginny's new dress," said Ron, handing it out to her.

"Of course she hasn't," said Blaise. "That's for you. Dress robes."

Blaise himself was looking at his blue robes in admiration.

"What?" said Ron, looking horror-struck.

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Dress robes!" repeated Blaise. "It says on our school list that we're supposed to have dress robes this year… robes for formal occasions."

"You've got to be kidding," said Ron in disbelief. "I'm not wearing that, no way."

"Everyone wears them, Ron!" said Mrs. Weasley crossly. "They're all like that! Your father's got some for smart parties!"

"I'll go starkers before I put that on," said Ron stubbornly.

"Please don't." James, Draco, Blaise, and Harry said in unison.

"Don't be so silly," said Mrs. Weasley. "You've got to have dress robes, they're on your list! I got some for Harry, Blaise, and Draco too… show him, Harry…"

In some trepidation, Harry opened the last parcel on his camp bed. It wasn't as bad as he had expected, however; his dress robes didn't have any lace on them at all - in fact, they were more or less the same as his school ones, except that they were bottle green instead of black.

"I thought they'd bring out the color of your eyes, dear," said Mrs. Weasley fondly.

"Well, they're okay!" said Ron angrily, looking at Harry's robes. "Why couldn't I have some like that?"

"Because… well, I had to get yours secondhand, and there wasn't a lot of choice!" said Mrs. Weasley, flushing.

Harry looked away. He would willingly have split all the money in his Gringotts vault with the Weasleys, but he knew they would never take it.

"I'm never wearing them," Ron was saying stubbornly. "Never."

"Fine," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "Go naked. And, Harry, make sure you get a picture of him. Goodness knows I could do with a laugh."

She left the room, slamming the door behind her. There was a funny spluttering noise from behind them. Pigwidgeon was choking on an overlarge Owl Treat.

"Why is everything I own rubbish?" said Ron furiously, striding across the room to unstick Pigwidgeon's beak.

"Government's corrupt Weasley," Draco said with a role of his eyes fingering his own robes that were silver and blue.

"I can fix those for you at school Ron, there are such things as charms and transfiguration you know." James said with a roll of her eyes. Ron quickly accepted it and going up stairs to her room James stared at the ball gown on her bed, it was very pretty and James knew Mrs. Weasley wished she could have given her boys the best. But as Draco said, the Government was very corrupt.

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So you guys like it or no?

Review please!

KrisxCross out!~


	9. Chapter 9

So Chapter nine people! Please enjoy!

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There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when James awoke next morning. Heavy rain was still splattering against the window as she got dressed in jeans and a hoodie; they would change into their school robes on the Hogwarts Express.

She, Harry, Ron, Fred, and George had just reached the first-floor landing on their way down to breakfast, when Mrs. Weasley appeared at the foot of the stairs, looking harassed.

"Arthur!" she called up the staircase. "Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!"

James flattened herself against the wall as Mr. Weasley came clattering past with his robes on back-to-front and hurtled out of sight. When James and the others entered the kitchen, they saw Mrs. Weasley rummaging anxiously in the drawers –

"I've got a quill here somewhere!" - and Mr. Weasley bending over the fire, talking to -

Amos Diggory's head was sitting in the middle of the flames like a large, bearded egg. It was talking very fast, completely unperturbed by the sparks flying around it and the flames licking its ears.

"… Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-'ems - please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there —"

"Here!" said Fred concernly, pushing a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a crumpled quill into Mr. Weasley's hands.

"- it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it," said Mr. Diggory's head. "I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off — if Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur —"

"What does Mad-Eye say happened?" asked Mr. Weasley, unscrewing the ink bottle, loading up his quill, and preparing to take notes.

Mr. Diggory's head rolled its eyes. "Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward the house, but was ambushed by his dustbins."

"What did the dustbins do?" asked Mr. Weasley, scribbling frantically.

"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell," said Mr. Diggory. "Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the pleasemen turned up -" Mr. Weasley groaned.

"And what about the intruder?"

"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye," said Mr. Diggory's head, rolling its eyes again. "Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot get their hands on Mad-Eye, he's had it — think of his record — we've got to get him off on a minor charge, something in your department — what are exploding dustbins worth?"

"Might be a caution," said Mr. Weasley, still writing very fast, his brow furrowed. "Mad-Eye didn't use his wand? He didn't actually attack anyone?"

"I'll bet he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window," said Mr. Diggory, "but they'll have a job proving it, there aren't any casualties."

"All right, I'm off," Mr. Weasley said, and he stuffed the parchment with his notes on it into his pocket and dashed out of the kitchen again.

Mr. Diggory's head looked around at Mrs. Weasley.

"Sorry about this, Molly," it said, more calmly, "bothering you so early and everything… but Arthur's the only one who can get Mad-Eye off, and Mad-Eye's supposed to be starting his new job today. Why he had to choose last night…"

"Well," Sirius said, seiously. "Mad eye is a bit of a paranoid man, good auror though."

"Never mind, Amos," said Mrs. Weasley. "Sure you won't have a bit of toast or anything before you go?"

"Oh go on, then," said Mr. Diggory. Mrs. Weasley took a piece of buttered toast from a stack on the kitchen table, put it into the fire tongs, and transferred it into Mr. Diggory's mouth.

"Fanks," he said in a muffled voice, and then, with a small pop, vanished.

James could hear Mr. Weasley calling hurried good-byes to Bill, Charlie, Percy, and the girls. Within five minutes, he was back in the kitchen, his robes on the right way now, dragging a comb through his hair.

"I'd better hurry - you have a good term, boys, girls," said Mr. Weasley to Harry, Ron, James, and the twins, fastening a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate.

"Molly, are you going to be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?"

"Of course I will," she said. "You just look after Mad-Eye, we'll be fine."

As Mr. Weasley vanished, Bill and Charlie entered the kitchen.

"Did someone say Mad-Eye?" Bill asked. "What's he been up to now."

"He says someone tried to break into his house last night," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Mad-Eye Moody?" said George thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his toast. "Isn't he that nutter -"

"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody," said Mrs. Weasley sternly.

"Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?" said Fred quietly as Mrs. Weasley left the room. "Birds of a feather…"

"...flock,'' George said but was cut off by James who was smirking.

"Together." She said swinging her arms around their necks.

"Moody was a great wizard in his time," said Bill.

"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?" said Charlie.

"Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he?" said Fred. "I mean, I know he's a genius and everything…"

"Who is Mad-Eye?" asked Harry.

"He's retired, used to work at the Ministry," said Charlie. "I met him once when Dad took me into work with him. He was an Auror - one of the best… a Dark wizard catcher," he added, seeing Harry's blank look "Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though… the families of people he caught, mainly… and I heard he's been getting really paranoid in his old age. Doesn't trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark wizards everywhere."

"There are dark wizards everywhere," Sirius said darkly from his muffin that James had gave him.

Bill and Charlie decided to come and see everyone off at King's Cross station, but Percy, apologizing most profusely, said that he really needed to get to work.

"Glad to see we're so important to you," Ron rolled his eyes.

"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment," he told them. "Mr. Crouch is really starting to rely on me."

"Yeah, you know what, Percy?" said George seriously. "I reckon he'll know your name soon."

"Probably." Hermione began.

"Most likely." James continued.

"In the next century." The ended together causing Percy to scowl and the twins to laugh.

Mrs. Weasley had braved the telephone in the village post office to order three ordinary Muggle taxis to take them into London.

"Arthur tried to borrow Ministry cars for us," Mrs. Weasley whispered to them as they stood in the rain-washed yard, watching the taxi drivers heaving six heavy Hogwarts trunks into their cars. "But there weren't any to spare… Oh dear, they don't look happy, do they?"

Harry didn't like to tell Mrs. Weasley that Muggle taxi drivers rarely transported overexcited owls, and Pigwidgeon was making an earsplitting racket. Nor did it help that a number of Filibuster's Fabulous No-Heat, Wet-Start Fireworks went off unexpectedly when Fred's trunk sprang open, causing the driver carrying it to yell with fright and pain as Crookshanks clawed his way up the man's leg. James worked her charm on them though, had them nodding along and telling her it was okay, part of the job as she "apologized."

"Why wasn't she a slytherin?" Draco asked them as they watched her manipulate the taxi drivers.

"Same reason you're our friends now, same reason she sticks with us, the same reason she puts up with the FB kids, and the same reason she can stand Fred. She's too maternal." Ron said as he gazed at the girl who was "near" tears as she apologized.

The journey was comfortable, owing to the fact that the taxi drivers played music and would start small talk with them. Crookshanks took quite a while to recover from the fireworks, and by the time they entered London, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all severely scratched and glaring at James who now held Crookshanks with being scratch free. They were very relieved to get out at King's Cross, even though the rain was coming down harder than ever, and they got soaked carrying their trunks across the busy road and into the station.

James was used to getting onto platform nine and three-quarters by now. It was a simple matter of walking straight through the apparently solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten.

"Just hope no insane house elf seals the barrier," Ron muttered and Harry nodded.

"You and me both mate."

"Sure, I wanted to send an owl the last time…you guys never listen to me." James said in a fake snobbish way as the Taxi driver rolled her stuff with her.

"This is fine, thank you John." James said with a cheerful smile and the man left blushing and Fred swung his arm around James.

"Lucky I know you weren't into him, I am a jealous man." Fred said and James laughed looking up at him.

The only tricky part was doing this in an unobtrusive way, so as to avoid attracting Muggle attention. They did it in groups today; Harry, Ron, and Hermione (the most conspicuous, since they were accompanied by Pigwidgeon and Crookshanks) went first; they leaned casually against the barrier, chatting unconcernedly, and slid sideways through it… and as they did so, platform nine and three-quarters materialized in front of them.

The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. Pigwidgeon became noisier than ever in response to the hooting of many owls through the mist. Harry, Ron, James, Draco, Blaise, and Hermione set off to find seats, and were soon stowing their luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. They then hopped back down onto the platform to say good-bye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.

"Why?" said Fred keenly.

"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it… it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."

"Not you too Charlie!"

"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.

"Why?" said George impatiently.

"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."

"A bit of what?" said Ron.

But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.

"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.

"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but… well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with… one thing and another."

The twins huffed."Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -"

"What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you… Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George, James?"

The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.

"By the way, we already know about the tournament!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "Didn't think Draco wouldn't know?"

Mrs. Weasley, Charlie, and Bill spluttered and glared at them. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.

Harry, Ron, James, Draco, Blaise, and Hermione went back to their compartment.

The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.

"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry and Ron listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.

"… Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore - the man's such a Mudblood-lover - and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do…"

"Drat, we could have gotten rid of him!" Harry and Ron moaned.

Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Nott's voice.

"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."

"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" said Harry.

"Yes," said Hermione sniffily, "and it's got a horrible reputation. According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

"I think I've heard of it," said Ron vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

"Well, nobody knows, do they?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.

"Er - why not?" said Harry.

"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets," said Hermione matter-of-factly.

"Come off it," said Ron, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts — how are you going to hide a great big castle?"

Everyone chuckled at that.

"But Hogwarts is hidden," said Hermione, in surprise. "Everyone knows that… well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway."

"Just you and James, then," said Ron.

"I have," Draco offered.

"The twins and Blaise have." James added.

"So go on - how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?"

"It's bewitched," said Hermione. "If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a moldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE."

"But what about Myrtle's parents?" Harry remembered suddenly. Hermione shrugged.

"So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?"

"Maybe," said Hermione, shrugging, "or it might have Muggle-repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable -"

"Come again?"

"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?"

"Like the Room of requirements."

"Er… if you say so," said Harry.

"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

"Ah, think of the possibilities," said Ron dreamily. "It would've been so easy to push Nott off a glacier and make it look like an accident… Shame his mother likes him…"

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for them to share.

Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, extremely forgetful boy who had been brought up by his formidable witch of a grandmother.

Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. Some of its magic seemed to be wearing off now; it was still squeaking "Troy - Mullet - Moran!" but in a very feeble and exhausted sort of way. After half an hour or so, Hermione, growing tired of the endless Quidditch talk, buried herself once more in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and started trying to learn a Summoning Charm.

Neville listened jealously to the others' conversation as they relived the Cup match.

"Gran didn't want to go," he said miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."

"It was," said Ron. "Look at this, Neville…" He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum.

"Oh wow," said Neville enviously as Ron tipped Krum onto his pudgy hand.

"We saw him right up close, as well," said Ron. "We were in the Top Box -"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

Theodore Nott had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, Draco's ex-enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Nott," said Draco coolly.

"Weasley… what is that?" said Nott, pointing at Pigwidgeon's cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious.

Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Nott was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.

"Look at this!" said Nott in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety…

"Eat dung, Nott!" said Ron, the same color as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Nott's grip. Nott howled with derisive laughter; Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly.

"So… going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know… you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won…"

"What are you talking about?" snapped Ron.

"Are you going to enter?" Nott repeated. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"Either explain what you're on about or go away, Nott," said Hermione testily, over the top of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4. James was ignoring everyone as she stared at something out the window.

A gleeful smile spread across Nott's pale face

"Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly. "You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago… heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry… Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley… yes… they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him…"

"At least, my dad can get his information not using bribes," Ginny spat.

Laughing once more, Nott beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared.

Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.

"Ron!" said Hermione reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered "Reparo!" and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

"Well… making it look like he knows everything and we don't…" Ron snarled. "'Father's always associated with the top peopie at the Ministry'… Dad could've got a promotion any time… he just likes it where he is…"

"Of course he does," said Hermione quietly. "Don't let Nott get to you, Ron -"

"Him! Get to me! As if!" said Ron, picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.

Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. He didn't talk much as they changed into their school robes, and was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled up Crookshanks in her cloak and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as they left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry and James yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.

"All righ', James, Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh both at the feast if we don' drown!"

First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.

"Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for them outside the station.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle. James, Blaise, Draco, and Ginny entered the one behind them before the all started for the Castle.

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So there, do you guys like it?

Reviw please!

KrisxCross out!~


	10. Chapter 10

I know it has been awhile but school is kicking my ass~

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Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, James could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. James, Draco, Blaise, and Ginny jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.

"Blimey," said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak - ARRGH!"

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Draco, just as a second water bomb dropped - narrowly missing Blaise, it burst at Ginny's feet, sending a wave of cold water over her sneakers into her socks.

People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire.

James looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!" Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed James around the neck to stop herself from falling.

"Ouch - sorry, Miss Black -"

"That's all right, no blood no foul." James gasped, massaging her throat.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived. James smirked before sending out a shield charm for them and having the water rebound back at Peeves.

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs at her, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely and chanting.

"Mini Marauder, all grown up, her face like his, her eyes like her's, Puppyfoot strikes again." Peeves chanted and James took a bow as the balloons all missed her.

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right, Draco, Blaise, and James cackling behind them.

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. Harry, Ron, Blaise, Draco, James, and Hermione walked past the Slytherins, dropping off Draco and Blaise to the shock of most, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Pearly white and semitransparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, but with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra-festive, and insuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck.

"Good evening," he said, beaming at them.

"Says who?" said Ginny, taking off her sneakers and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving."

"Taking after Ron are we?" James and Hermione asked in tandem making the Weasley twins laugh as Ginny blushed with Ron spluttering.

The Sorting of the new students into Houses took place at the start of every school year, but by an unlucky combination of circumstances, James hadn't been present at one since her own. She was quite looking forward to it. Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table.

"Hiya, Harry, James!"

It was Colin Creevey, a third year to whom Harry was something of a hero and James was his crush.

"Hi, Colin," said Harry warily.

"Hey Colin!" James said with a smirk as Collin Blushed.

"James, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"

"Er - good," said Harry.

"Really?" James asked with a small smile.

"He's really excited!" said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, James?"

"Yep!" said James. She turned back to Hermione, Ron, and Nearly Headless Nick.

"Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" Harry asked. He was judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor.

"Sometimes, but not always," Ron said.

"Oh no, not necessarily," said Hermione. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

Harry looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first years; Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor, but there was another empty chair too, and Harry couldn't think who else was missing.

"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers.

They had never yet had a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms. James's favorite by far had been Professor Lupin, who had resigned last year. He looked up and down the staff table. There was definitely no new face there.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Hermione, looking anxious.

James scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra's other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Snape - James's least favorite person at Hogwarts. James's loathing of Snape was matched only by Snape's hatred of her and Harry, a hatred which had, if possible, decreased last year, when Snape had helped Sirius become free.

Snape and Sirius had been enemies since their own school days.

On Snape's other side was an empty seat, which James guessed was Professor McGonagall's. Next to it, and in the very center of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought. James glanced up at the ceiling too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and she had never seen it look this stormy. Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, beside Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff."

"As long as it's not Buckbeak." James sniggered high-fiving Hermione who snorted.

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If Harry, Ron, and Hermione were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school - all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what James recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it hooked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited.

When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin Creevey's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed, 'I fell in the lake!' He looked positively delighted about it. James cackled loudly before like other fourth years began to send out drying spells.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,

There lived four wizards of renown,

Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fin.

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan

To educate young sorcerers

Thus Hogwarts School began.

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were

Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition.

While still alive they did divide

Their favorites from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

"That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," said Harry, clapping along with everyone else.

"Sings a different one every year," said Ron. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.

Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him. James saw Harry catch a glimpse of Cho, the Ravenclaw Seeker, cheering Stewart Ackerley as he sat down. For a fleeting second, Harry had a strange desire to join the Ravenclaw table too.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The table on the other side of the hall erupted with cheers; Harry could see Nott, Blaise, and Draco clapping as Baddock joined the Slytherins. Harry wondered whether Baddock would be a typical Slytherin. Fred and George clapped politely and snuck glances down the table at James who was looking at a boy. Not just any boy, but a boy that looked like her and Sirius.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming – a misleading impression, for everyone besides maybe the first years knew Hagrid to possess a very kind nature. He winked at them as he sat down at the end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide— -

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

"YEAH!," James and Hermione cheered causing the tiny boy to blush brightly.

Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother.

"Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"

"Cool!" said Colin, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

"Wow!" said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.

"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis? Also the girl over their, the really pretty one with black hair and navy eyes with the silver in them."

James saw Harry look away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs. James gave a wink and waved with a smile causing the two Creevy's to blush.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall finally got to the L's.

"Lemming Teresa."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Lestrange Phineas!"

Gasps rang out across the room as the little boy looked down before shuffling to the stool and sitting down. Eyes locked on Neville, James, and Draco. Neville because he looked shell shocked, James because her face had frozen over, and Draco because he had lost his sunny smile that was still freaking some people out. The minutes ticked by and finally the Hat opened it's "mouth."

"GRYFFINDORE!"

Pure silence rang throughout the hall before James stood and clapped causing others to clap except a pale Neville. The black haired youth walked over and looked at James who let him sit next to her. He kept his head down at the stares he got until James squeezed his arm. He looked at her with Bellatrix's black eyes and James stared back before smiling softly.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, massaging his stomach causing the tension to end slightly.

"Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food," said Nearly Headless Nick as "Madley, Laura!" became a Hufflepuff.

"Course it is, if you're dead," snapped Ron.

"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch," said Nearly Headless Nick, glancing at Phineas and applauding as "McDonald, Natalie!" joined the Gryffindor table.

"We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"

Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

And finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!"), the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.

"About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate.

Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in."

"Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.

Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as Harry, Ron, and Hermione loaded their own plates. James was making herself and Phineas a plate as he was very, very shy.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato.

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Nearly Headless Nick. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

"Why? Wha' 'appened?" said Harry, through a sizable chunk of steak.

"Peeves, of course," said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast - well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council - the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance – but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent specter covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves.

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly.

"So what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits—"

Clang.

Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention. James quickly did a cleaning spell as it headed towards her and Phineas who had flinched at Hermione's noise making.

"There are house-elves here?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at Hogwarts?"

"Certainly," said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" said Hermione.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" said Nearly Headless Nick. "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning… see to the fires and so on… I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

Hermione stared at him.

"But they get paid?" she said. "They get holidays, don't they? And - and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck.

"Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops — sorry, 'Arry —" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"

"Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor."

And she refused to eat another bite even though James hissed at her as she urged Phineas to eat like a mother hen.

The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings.

"Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!"

James had snickered at the "spotted dick" and Phineas had looked at her innocently almost causing her to choke. Hermione gave Ron a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered," ("Hmph!" said Hermione) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" James gasped. She looked around at Harry, Fred, and George, her fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts -"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any James had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words James couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

"So I guess we know why they call him Mad-Eye now," Ron said sadly, he didn't like how bad his mentor sounded in the future.

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students chapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him. James beat the others to it clapping and everyone followed including Phineas who was hiding slightly behind James.

"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

"That's what happens in war." James said solemnly. They stared at her and then Phineas who had buried his head into her side, sleepy black eyes set with long lashes.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it.

"Moody is very paranoid, he thinks that his food and drinks could be poisoned," Ron said.

"He's at Hogwarts, he's not likely to be poisoned there," Hermione scoffed.

As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and James saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly and James snorted at her boyfriend.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time… no…" said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued.

"Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, and Harry himself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago. James held Phineas to her tightly her eyes hard scanning to look at Blaise who was staring at her. Something was going to happen during the Tournament rang clear in their heads. It made sense now as they thought about it, the tournament, death toll, and Voldemort had their insides frozen.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion, but he was the one who had a girlfriend who looked down right murderous at what he said. At every House table, James could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration.

This" — Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious - "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces and James who looked relieved. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"They can't do that!" said George Weasley, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons…"

"Come on," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, James, Phineas, Fred, and George set off for the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry.

"Dunno," said Fred, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George…"

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," said Ron.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."

"People have died, though!" said Hermione in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.

"Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older… Dunno if we've learned enough…"

"I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George. "I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. I'll just have to — oops…"

Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, but Neville's memory was notoriously poor. Harry and Ron seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armor at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.

"Shut it, you," said James, banging down its visor as they passed. They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as they approached.

"Balderdash," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and Harry distinctly heard her mutter "Slave labor" before bidding them good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitory.

Harry, Ron, and Neville climbed up the last, spiral staircase until they reached their own dormitory, which was situated at the top of the tower. Five four-poster beds with deep crimson hangings stood against the walls, each with its owner's trunk at the foot. Dean and Seamus were already getting into bed; Seamus had pinned his Ireland rosette to his headboard, and Dean had tacked up a poster of Viktor Krum over his bedside table. His old poster of the West Ham football team was pinned right next to it.

Harry, Ron, and Neville got into their pajamas and into bed. Someone - a house-elf, no doubt - had placed warming pans between the sheets. It was extremely comfortable, lying there in bed and listening to the storm raging outside.

"I might go in for it, you know," Ron said sleepily through the darkness, "if Fred and George find out how to… the tournament… you never know, do you?"

"S'pose not…"

Harry rolled over in bed, a series of dazzling new pictures forming in his mind's eye… He had hoodwinked the impartial judge into believing he was seventeen… he had become Hogwarts champion… he was standing on the grounds, his arms raised in triumph in front of the whole school, all of whom were applauding and screaming… he had just won the Triwizard Tournament. Cho's face stood out particularly clearly in the blurred crowd, her face glowing with admiration… Harry grinned into his pillow, exceptionally glad that Ron couldn't see what he could.

Downstairs only Fred and James remained after Phineas had hugged his second cousin goodnight leaving to his dormitory. They laid together on the couch and James look at him with her big eyes.

"I don't want you and George to enter, but I won't stop you." James whispered and Fred looked down at her before kissing her holding her close around the waist. James parted her lips for Fred who willingly entered her mouth with his tongue tasting James's unique flavor, lemon with a bit of the strawberry cake she ate for desert. James moaned before they pulled apart panting for air gazing with love at each other kissing more into the night before leaving to the separate dormitories. They dreamt of a distant future, where there was no "Voldemort" and they were married, Fred also dreamt of an expecting James who glowed smiling widely.

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So, did you guys like it? No?

Review Please~

KrisxCross out!


	11. Chapter 11

Hey readers, I would just like to say that I'm very touched by all of the reviews I get and I want to say thank you to everyone. So please enjoy the eleventh chapter!

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The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead as Harry, Ron, and Hermione examined their new course schedules at breakfast. A few seats along, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were discussing magical methods of aging themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament. James was at the Slytherin table with Phineas getting him introduced to Draco and Blaise who took to the little Gryffindor easily.

"Today's not bad… outside all morning," said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures… damn it, we're still with the Slytherins…"

"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned, looking down. Divination was his least favorite subject, apart from Potions. Professor Trelawney kept predicting Harry's death, which he found extremely annoying.

"You should have given it up like me, shouldn't you?" said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."

"You're eating again, I notice," said Ron, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to her toast too.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," said Hermione haughtily.

"Yeah… and you were hungry," said James as she came over with a smirk.

"That's true," Hermione laughed moving over so she could sit down.

There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, James looked up, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and gray. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel into his lap - Neville almost always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall Theodore Nott's eagle owl had landed on his shoulder, carrying what looked like his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. Then she appeared with two black packages dropping in front of James and Harry. Opening it, they saw prank products and some chocolate most likely from Remus.

The chocolate lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable patch until they arrived in greenhouse three, but here they were distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the fascinating plants James had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus -"

"The what?" said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.

"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."

"Like poor Eloise Midgen," said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."

"Silly girl," said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end."

A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely.

As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.

"Mornin'!" Hagrid said, grinning at James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this - Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

"Come again?" said Ron.

Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

"Eurgh!" squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backward. "Eurgh" just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts in James's opinion. They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one aother, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches.

"On'y jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"And why would we want to raise them?" said a cold voice.

The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Theodore Nott. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words.

Hagrid looked stumped at the question.

"I mean, what do they do?" asked Nott. "What is the point of them?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly,

"Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things - I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer - I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake - just try 'em out with a bit of each."

"First pus and now this," muttered Seamus.

Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made Harry, Ron, and Hermione pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Harry couldn't suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the skrewts didn't seem to have mouths. James was utterly fascinated and had one positioned in her hand easily. Draco and Blaise were looking over her shoulder at the skrewt that was utterly weird looking.

"Ouch!" yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. "It got me."

Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.

"Its end exploded!" said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," said Hagrid, nodding.

"Eurgh!" said Lavender Brown again. "Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). "I reckon they're the males… The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies… I think they might be ter suck blood."

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Nott sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"

"Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful," Hermione snapped. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"

James, Harry, and Ron grinned at Hagrid, who gave them a furtive smile from behind his bushy beard. Hagrid would have liked nothing better than a pet dragon, as James, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione knew only too well - he had owned one for a brief period during their first year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norbert. Hagrid simply loved monstrous creatures, the more lethal, the better.

"Plus Nott, your mother kept you didn't she." James sneered and he glared at her throughout the entire lesson.

"Well, at least the skrewts are small," said Ron as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.

"They are now," said Hermione in an exasperated voice, "but once Hagrid's found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long."

"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?" said Ron, grinning slyly at her.

"You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Nott up," said Hermione. "As a matter of fact I think he's right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all."

They sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped themselves to lamb chops and potatoes. Hermione began to eat so fast that James, Harry, and Ron stared at her.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Er - is this the new stand on elf rights?" said Ron. "You're going to make yourself puke instead?"

"No," said Hermione, with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth bulging with sprouts. "I just want to get to the library."

"What?" said Ron in disbelief. "Hermione - it's the first day back! We haven't even got homework yet!"

Hermione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten for days. Then she leapt to her feet, said, "See you at dinner!" and departed at high speed.

When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, Harry and Ron set off for North Tower where, at the top of a tightly spiraling staircase, a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling, and the room where Professor Trelawney lived.

The familiar sweet perfume spreading from the fire met their nostrils as they emerged at the top of the stepladder. As ever, the curtains were all closed; the circular room was bathed in a dim reddish light cast by the many lamps, which were all draped with scarves and shawls. Harry and Ron walked through the mass of occupied chintz chairs and poufs that cluttered the room, and sat down at the same small circular table.

"Good day," said the misty voice of Professor Trelawney right behind Harry, making him jump.

A very thin woman with enormous glasses that made her eyes appear far too large for her face, Professor Trelawney was peering down at Harry with the tragic expression she always wore whenever she saw him.

The usual large amount of beads, chains, and bangles glittered upon her person in the firelight.

"You are preoccupied, my dear," she said mournfully to Harry. "My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas… most difficult… I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass… and perhaps sooner than you think…"

Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, who looked stonily back. Professor Trelawney swept past them and seated herself in a large winged armchair before the fire, facing the class. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who deeply admired Professor Trelawney, were sitting on poufs very close to her.

"My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars," she said. "The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingle…"

But Harry's thoughts had drifted. The perfumed fire always made him feel sleepy and dull-witted, and Professor Trelawney's rambling talks on fortune-telling never held him exactly spellbound - though he couldn't help thinking about what she had just said to him. 'I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass… '

But Hermione was right, Harry thought irritably, Professor Trelawney really was an old fraud. He wasn't dreading anything at the moment at all… well, unless you counted his fear of Voldemort coming back … but what did Professor Trelawney know? He had long since come to the conclusion that her brand of fortunetelling was really no more than lucky guesswork and a spooky manner.

Except, of course, for that time at the end of last term, when she had made the prediction about Voldemort rising again… and Dumbledore himself had said that he thought that trance had been genuine, when Harry had described it to him.

"Harry!" Ron muttered.

"What?"

Harry looked around; the whole class was staring at him. He sat up straight; he had been almost dozing off, lost in the heat and his thoughts.

"Ah, she was talking to you."

"I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn," said Professor Trelawney, a faint note of resentment in her voice at the fact that he had obviously not been hanging on her words.

"Born under - what, sorry?" said Harry.

"Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn!" said Professor Trelawney, sounding definitely irritated that he wasn't riveted by this news. "I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth… Your dark hair… your mean stature… tragic losses so young in life… I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in midwinter?"

"No," said Harry, "I was born in July."

Ron hastily turned his laugh into a hacking cough.

Half an hour later, each of them had been given a complicated circular chart, and was attempting to fill in the position of the planets at their moment of birth. It was dull work, requiring much consultation of timetables and calculation of angles.

"I've got two Neptunes here," said Harry after a while, frowning down at his piece of parchment, "that can't be right, can it?"

"Aaaaah," said Ron, imitating Professor Trelawney's mystical whisper, "when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, Harry…"

Seamus and Dean, who were working nearby, sniggered loudly, though not loudly enough to mask the excited squeals from Lavender Brown - "Oh Professor, look! I think I've got an unexpected planet! Oooh, which one's that, Professor?"

"It is Uranus, my dear," said Professor Trelawney, peering down at the chart.

"Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?" said Ron.

Most unfortunately, Professor Trelawney heard him, and it was this, perhaps, that made her give them so much homework at the end of the class.

"A detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart," she snapped, sounding much more like Professor McGonagall than her usual airy-fairy self. "I want it ready to hand in next Monday, and no excuses!"

"Miserable old bat," said Ron bitterly as they joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner. "That'll take all weekend, that will…"

"Lots of homework?" said Hermione brightly, catching up with them. "Professor Vector didn't give us any at all!"

"Of course." James said with a smirk, she had a wonderful day.

"Well, bully for Professor Vector," said Ron moodily.

They reached the entrance hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. They had just joined the end of the line, when a loud voice rang out behind them.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned. Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.

"What?" said Ron shortly.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" said Nott, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. "Listen to this!"

FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."

Nott looked up.

"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" he crowed.

Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Nott straightened the paper with a flourish and read on:

Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene.

"And there's a picture, Weasley!" said Nott, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house - if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him.

"Get stuffed, Nott," said Harry. "C'mon, Ron…"

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" sneered Nott. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

"You know your mother, Nott?" said Harry - both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron's robes to stop him from launching himself at Nott -

"that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"

Nott's pale face went slightly pink.

"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," said Harry, turning away.

BANG!

Several people screamed - Harry felt something white-hot graze the side of his face - he plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he'd even touched it, he heard a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

Harry spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure black ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Nott had been standing.

There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry — at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.

"Did he get you?" Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly.

"No," said Harry, "missed."

"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.

"Leave - what?" Harry said, bewildered.

"Not you - him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the black ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.

Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain.

"Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…"

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. "Never - do - that - again -" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.

"Professor!" James called out in disgust. Doing a summoning charm she had Nott in her hands who was squeaking terrified and trembling.

"_Make him stop, Black. Make him stop!"_ he squeaked and James held the ferret to her glaring in pure anger at Moody.

"What is going on here!" called out a voice.

Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, staring at James and the ferret with a look on his face.

"What - what are you looking at?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following his eyes to see the ferret in James's arms.

"Teaching, Discipline," said Moody.

"Teach - Moody, is that a student?" shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.

"Yep," said Moody.

"No!" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Theodore Nott had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek black hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing. James helped him up and let him use her to lean on. James didn't like Nott, but she hadn't liked Draco either…

"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall wealdy. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock -"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that, then," said Moody, staring at Nott with great dislike.

Nott, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words "my father" were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father of old, boy… You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son… you tell him that from me… Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," said Nott resentfully.

"Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape… Come on, you…"

And he seized Nott's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons.

Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.

"Don't talk to me," Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened.

"Why not?" said Hermione in surprise.

"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever," said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. "Theodore Nott, the amazing bouncing ferret."

Harry and Hermione both laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of their plates.

"He could have really hurt Nott, though," she said. "It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it -"

"Hermione!" said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again, "you're ruining the best moment of my life!"

"Shut up Ron, what he did was disgusting! He could of seriously hurt him." Blaise said with a scowl.

"I agree." Draco said his nose in the air as he snatched some food from Ron.

"I don't like, him. Something's off about him." James said and then took an apple from the table and walked off.

Hermione made an impatient noise and began to eat at top speed again.

"Don't tell me you're going back to the library this evening?" said Harry, watching her.

"Got to," said Hermione thickly. "Loads to do."

"But you told us Professor Vector -"

"It's not schoolwork," she said. Within five minutes, she had cleared her plate and departed. No sooner had she gone than her seat was taken by Fred Weasley.

"Moody!" he said. "How cool is he?"

"Beyond cool," said George, sitting down opposite Fred.

"Supercool," said the twins' best friend, Lee Jordan, sliding into the seat beside George.

"We had him this afternoon," he told Harry and Ron.

"What was it like?" said Harry eagerly.

Fred, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning.

"Never had a lesson like it," said Fred.

"He knows, man," said Lee.

"Knows what?" said Ron, leaning forward.

"Knows what it's like to be out there doing it," said George impressively.

"Doing what?" said Harry.

"Fighting the Dark Arts," said Fred.

"He's seen it all," said George.

"Mazing," said Lee.

Ron dived into his bag for his schedule.

"We haven't got him till Thursday!" he said in a disappointed voice.

"Thank merlin." James, Draco and Blaise said in unison with disgusted looks.

"What has you three hating on him?" Fred asked pulling James into his side.

"Turned Theodore Nott into an amazing bouncing ferret." Ron said with a very big smile.

"Really? I mean-" Fred said and then backtracked at the look James sent him. The three glared and stood up and began to walk off with Fred following his girlfriend whining about just joking.

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So did you guys like it?

Review please!~

KrisxCross out~


	12. Chapter 12

Hey, guys today's my birthday so, here is a birthday chapter that I wrote for myself haha! Hope you guys enjoy!~

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The next two days passed without great incident, unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions causing James to get her first Troll in the class.

Professor Snape, who seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer, gave Neville detention, and Neville returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads.

"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" said Ron to Harry and James as they watched Hermione teach Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the toad guts from under his fingernails.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Moody."

It was common knowledge that Snape really wanted the Dark Arts job, and he had now failed to get it for the fourth year running.

Snape had disliked all of their previous Dark Arts teachers, and shown it - but he seemed strangely wary of displaying overt animosity to Mad-Eye Moody. Indeed, whenever James saw the two of them together - at mealtimes, or when they passed in the corridors - she had the distinct impression that Snape was avoiding Moody's eye, whether magical or normal.

"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad," said Ron, his eyes misting over, "and bounced him all around his dungeon…"

The Gryffindor fourth years were looking forward to Moody's first lesson so much that they arrived early on Thursday lunchtime and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung. James was the only one who had stayed back, she disliked Moody very much after what he did too Phineas in his first lesson. She had had words with the man, leading both into cursing at each other in foul language that even had Snape blushing when he came to break it up.

"Been with -"

"Phineas." Harry finished her sentence for her.

Harry grinned innocently at James's glare.

"C'mon, quick, or we won't get decent seats."

They hurried into three chairs right in front of the teacher's desk, took out their copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and waited, unusually quiet.

Soon they heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.

"You can put those away," he growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them."

They returned the books to their bags, Ron looking excited.

Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled grey hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swivelled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered. He downright glared at James who snarled right back at him.

Right then," he said, when the last person had declared themselves present, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses," said Moody. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark -"

"What, aren't you staying?" Ron blurted out.

Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled - the first time James seen him do so.

The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he ever did anything as friendly as smile.

Ron looked deeply relieved.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody said. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago… Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favour to Dumbledore…One year, and then back to my quiet retirement."

He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together. James however narrowed her eyes, from what she had heard, 'quiet' retirement was anything but what he had.

"So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head.

"So… do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including James's, Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender.

Lavender was a faint pink colour.

"Er," said Ron tentatively, "my dad told me about one… Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it.

Harry felt Ron recoil slightly next to him - Ron hated spiders. Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it.

He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Imperio!"

'I asked you whether you want me to do that again. Answer me! Imperio!'

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Everyone was laughing - everyone except Moody and James.

"Think it's funny, do you?" he growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away almost instantly.

"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…"

Ron gave an involuntary shudder.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," said Moody, and James knew he was talking about the days in which Voldemort had been all-powerful. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, and everyone jumped.

Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Hermione's, Harry's, James's, and Neville's hands raised in to the air much to their surprise.

The only class in which Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology which was easily his best subject. Neville looked surprised at his own daring.

"Yes?" said Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville.

"There's one - the Cruciatus Curse," said Neville in a small but distinct voice.

Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.

"Your name's Longbottom?" he said, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again.

Neville nodded nervously, but Moody made no further inquiries. Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

"The Cruciatus Curse," said Moody. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. "Engorgio!"

Harry felt his nails digging into his palm painfully. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neville shudder.

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretence, Ron pushed his chair backward, as far away from Moody's desk as possible.

Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "Crucio!"

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side.

No sound came from it, but Harry was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming.

Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently

- "Stop it!" James snarled loudly, shrieks of her mother under the curse ringing in her ears, tears silently falling down her face.

Harry looked around at her. She was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville, and Harry, following her gaze, saw that Neville's hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified.

Moody raised his wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

"Reducio," Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.

"Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse…That one was very popular once too.

"Right… anyone know any others?"

Harry looked around. From the looks on everyone's faces, he guessed they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. Hermione's hand shook slightly as, for the third time, she raised it into the air.

"Yes?" said Moody, looking at her.

"Avada Kedavra," Hermione whispered.

Several people looked uneasily around at her, including Ron.

"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. "Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra… the Killing Curse."

He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface.

Moody raised his wand, and James felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.

"Avada Kedavra!" Moody roared.

James flinched visibly, and she distantly felt the nails digging into his palm break through skin.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead.

Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backward and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him.

Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.

"Not nice," he said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

Harry felt his face redden as Moody's eyes (both of them) looked into his own. He could feel everyone else looking around at him too.

Harry stared at the blank blackboard as though fascinated by it, but not really seeing it at all…

So that was how his parents had died… exactly like that spider. Had they been unblemished and unmarked too? Had they simply seen the flash of green light and heard the rush of speeding death, before life was wiped from their bodies? Harry had been picturing his parents' deaths over and over again for three years now, ever since he'd found out they had been murdered, ever since he'd found out what had happened that night: Wormtail had betrayed his parents' whereabouts to Voldemort, who had come to find them at their cottage.

How Voldemort had killed Harry's father first. How James Potter had tried to hold him off, while he shouted at his wife to take Harry and run…Voldemort had advanced on Lily Potter, told her to move aside so that he could kill Harry… how she had begged him to kill her instead, refused to stop shielding her son…and so Voldemort had murdered her too, before turning his wand on Harry.

Harry knew these details because he had heard his parents' voices when he had fought the dementors last year - for that was the terrible power of the dementors: to force their victims to relive the worst memories of their lives, and drown, powerless, in their own despair.

Moody was speaking again, from a great distance, it seemed to Harry. With a massive effort, he pulled himself back to the present and listened to what Moody was saying.

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it- you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

"Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared, and the whole class jumped again.

"Now… those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills… copy this down…"

They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang - but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices – "Did you see it twitch?" "- and when he killed it – just like that!"

They were talking about the lesson, James thought, as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, but she hadn't found it very entertaining - and nor, it seemed, had Hermione.

"Hurry up," she said tensely to Harry and Ron.

"Not the ruddy library again?" said Ron.

"No," said Hermione curtly, pointing up a side passage. "Neville."

Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

"Neville?" James said gently.

Neville looked around.

"Oh hello," he said, his voice much higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm - I'm starving, aren't you?"

"Neville, are you all right?" said Hermione.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what's for eating?"

Ron gave Harry a startled look.

"Neville, what -?"

But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All five of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than they had yet heard.

"It's all right, sonny," he said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on… we can have a cup of tea…"

Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody.

He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry.

"You all right, are you, Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry, almost defiantly.

Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry. Then he said, "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you've got to know. No point pretending…well… come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."

Neville looked pleadingly at Harry, Ron, James, and Hermione, James glared at Moody and led Neville away from him.

"My mom's in St. Mungo's too." James said casually, and Neville swirled around to look at her with wide eyes.

"How, but, I never…How'd you know?" Neville mumbled and James smiled tensely.

"I get letters, they said she was getting better, remembering pieces thanks to Alice Longbottom." James said lightly brushing her hair out of her face.

"My Gran said something about that." Neville said and he smiled slightly at James when Fred appeared grabbing her into the air spinning her around.

"Jamie, Baby!" Fred said bringing her into a kiss. James smiled lovingly into the kiss, they broke apart and she smiled at Fred and smirked at Neville.

"I know a certain Hufflepuff who likes you." James sing-songed and Neville blushed running off and Fred laughed.

James and Fred walked to the Great Hall together, they were in a very couple like mood and everyone left them alone, including Angelina and Phineas. Angelina hated James, first she took her spot on the Quidditch team and now she was with Fred. Angelina and James did not like each other. Fred and James fed each other lightly with tender looks, whispering words like lovers. Soon they kissed and went to their friends to talk.

Hermione ate furiously fast, and then left for the library again.

James, Harry, and Ron walked back to Gryffindor Tower, and Harry, who had been thinking of nothing else all through dinner, now raised the subject of the Unforgivable Curses himself.

"Wouldn't Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew we'd seen the curses?" Harry asked as they approached the Fat Lady.

"Yeah, probably," said Ron. "But Dumbledore's always done things his way, hasn't he, and Moody's been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questions later - look at his dustbins. Balderdash."

The Fat Lady swung forward to reveal the entrance hole, and they climbed into the Gryffindor common room, which was crowded and noisy.

"Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?" said Harry.

"I s'pose," Ron groaned.

"Haha." James mocked before going and sitting on Fred's lap as Angelina got way to close for her comfort. Fred noticed and smirked, his arms wrapping around the slightly jealous girl.

James and the other's talked for a while before James sending a glare Angelina's way, kissed Fred passively and walked over to the other two to hear Ron say.

"I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean," he said, staring down at a long list of calculations. James looking over it told him it said he'd have a objective in his way soon, due to the interference of Mars and Neptune.

"You know?," said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, "You don't even take Divination!"

"And? I was bored during the summer, you know I wasn't ignored or anything." James said sarcastically.

"Yeah, sorry about that," said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write out the answer she had given him.

"Soon," he said as he scribbled, "I am likely to run into a big objective, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Neptune." He looked up at James and nodded to Harry. "What's his say?"

"Let me see," said James taking the set of equations and numbers.

"Okay… Soon, he will have a trial of wits placed on him by the shadow of Mars." James said with a frown, she didn't like that Mars kept coming up.

Staring around the room, trying to think of a kind of misfortune he hadn't yet used, Harry saw Fred and George sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together, quills out, poring over a single piece of parchment. James, had filled something out while she had been with them a while ago, he could see her curvy writing and then they were writing around it as well.

It was most unusual to see Fred and George hidden away in a corner and working silently; they usually liked to be in the thick of things and the noisy centre of attention. There was something secretive about the way they were working on the piece of parchment, and Harry was reminded of how they had sat together writing something back at the Burrow.

He had thought then that it was another order form for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, but it didn't look like that this time; if it had been, they would surely have let Lee Jordan in on the joke.

He wondered whether it had anything to do with entering the Triwizard Tournament.

As Harry watched, George shook his head at Fred, scratched out something with his quill, and said, in a very quiet voice that nevertheless carried across the almost deserted room, "No - that sounds like we're accusing him. Got to be careful…"

Then George looked over and saw Harry watching him. Harry grinned and quickly returned to his predictions - he didn't want George to think he was eavesdropping.

Shortly after that, the twins rolled up their parchment, said good night, and went off to bed. Fred and George had been gone ten minutes or so when the portrait hole opened and Hermione climbed into the common room carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other.

Crookshanks arched his back, purring.

"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"

"So have I!" said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill.

Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically as Crookshanks curled up in her lap.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned.

"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.

"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."

"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" said Hermione.

"How dare you!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here! James even gave us a real one to work in."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It's just an expression," said Ron hastily.

Harry laid down his quill too, having just finished predicting his own death by decapitation. James just shook her head at Ron, already knowing his doom.

"What's in the box?" he asked, pointing at it.

"Funny you should ask," said Hermione, with a nasty look at Ron. She took off the lid and showed them the contents. Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colors, but all bearing the same letters: S.P.E.W.

"Spew?" said Harry, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's this about?"

"Not spew," said Hermione impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Never heard of it," said Ron.

"Well, of course you haven't," said Hermione briskly, "I've only just started it."

"Yeah?" said Ron in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well - if you three join - four," said Hermione.

"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" said Ron.

"S-P-E-W!" said Hermione hotly. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status - but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

She brandished the sheaf of parchment at them.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."

"Hermione - open your ears," said Ron loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"

"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about nonwand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."

"And how do we do all this?" Harry asked.

"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron - I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting. James, she's our "councilmember" do to her name in the pureblood society."

'Hmm, it's not as if you told me I needed a quill and parchment before you started speaking,' said Harry sarcastically.

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the three of them, and Harry sat, torn between exasperation at Hermione and amusement at the look on Ron's face.

The silence was broken, not by Ron, who in any case looked as though he was temporarily dumbstruck, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. Harry looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the windowsill.

"Hedwig!" he shouted, and he launched himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window.

Hedwig flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's predictions

The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry.

Harry read it aloud:

Gang -

Remus and I are doing lovely, going to France. Do behave, and if not don't get caught. James, you are not allowed that Weasley twin in a sexual manner, remember this! Also, good luck. We'll be in touch soon. My best to you all. Keep your eyes open!

Sirius & Remus

"France?" James asked in a perplexed manner, her eyes blinking.

"You're not even going to comment on the sexual thing?" Hermione asked casually and James snorted with laughter.

"I'm not ready for that yet anyways." James said with a roll of her eyes and Hermione nodded in approval.

"Girls are weird, but they deserve a little break to France." Ron said and the others nodded before breaking to go upstairs.

Upstairs in the dormitory James pulled on her pajamas and got into her four-poster, but she didn't feel remotely tired.

She heard Hermione come up into the dormitory a short while later, but did not speak to her. For a long time, James lay staring up at the dark canopy of her bed. The dormitory was completely silent, and, had she been less preoccupied, James would have realized that the scribbling noises being made meant that she was not the only one lying awake.

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Hmmm, James is already suspicious people, and who wouldn't be? The imposter was good, but he left out key points that mattered greatly. James already doesn't like him because of the whole Nott thing, she's going to observe him more, the curse of a Black. Keep your 'friends' close and your enemy's closer.

Hoped you liked it!

Review please!

KrisxCross out!~


	13. Chapter 13

Hey guys, I know I have been slacking lately so here is a good chapter for you guys, hope you like it!

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James woke up a bit tired her raven colored hair falling into her eyes, the sun shining brightly. It was around lunch she supposed and she was grateful that is was Saturday. Getting up James dressed in lime green fluorescent skinny jeans, black converse, a black button up shirt with a lime green loose tie added to the effect. Walking out into the halls she ignored the eyes that followed her, the confused looks at the bright color, going in to the Great Hall she smirked a very Slytherin like smirk as she walked over to Blaise and Draco who both looked bedraggled and dazed not noticing her. Walking up behind them she whispered a husky seductive voice that caused both boys to blush bright red.

"Have a fun toss in the beds together boys?" She asked cackling at the sputtered denials and death threats. James loved getting under their skin as she made herself comfortable in between them winking and blowing a kiss to Fred who acted dreamily as he caught the kiss tucking it into his pocket.

"You are a bitch, Black." Theodore Nott said evenly as he looked up from the sandwich he was eating.

"Takes one to know one Nott." James said easily sipping from a red liquid filled goblet.

"God I love house elves." James sighed around the taste of strawberry in her mouth.

"Knew you were into bestiality Black." Theodore snapped and James snorted.

"Says the one with a Veela for a mother." James retorted, peeling an orange from the table.

"Muggle lover." Theodore snarled.

"At least I don't plan on marrying my cousin." James stated evenly before popping a piece of orange into her mouth. The entire hall watching both like they were a tennis match or two beaters beating the buldger back and forth.

"He's still related to you." Theodore pointed out.

"Very Distantly, like my seventh cousin three times removed." James explained.

"It's better than if you and Malfoy went at it." Theodore acknowledged.

"What a lovely mental image, you'll be paying for my trip in the psych ward. By the way, don't forget to invite me to yours and Parkinson's wedding. I can't wait to see the pug- I mean kids." James said sweetly as she strode out and over to the Gryffindor table. Theodore's head hit the table in defeat, she had a silver tongue and god damn it, did she you know how to use it. James sashayed over to Fred who she led outside to the tree by the lake, she loved this spot. She leaned back into his chest watching the clouds as he played with her hair. She looked up into his warm chocolate brown eyes.

"I love you so much." She whispered and Fred smiled down at her.

"I love you more." He said teasingly, holding her chin gently in his hand.

"I have a bad feeling." James whispered as she traced a pattern across his hand.

"What kind of feeling?" He asked, a click coming from the tongue ring in his mouth.

"Something is going to happen, Mad Eye he is off, and this whole fucking tournament I jus-"James was cut off from her rant as Fred kissed her, their tongues dancing. James turned in his hold, her lime green covered legs spreading to straddle Fred's waist. They both moaned lowly as their hands wandered mapping, tracing, and memorizing the other's body. Fred broke the kiss and lavished James's neck, running his tongue and piercing along her flesh causing her to shiver, she cried out in surprise as he bit her. It didn't hurt, it was just so sudden that is had shocked her.

"The other schools will be here soon." Fred whispered as he rocked his hips into hers, her eyes glazing with lust.

"Fuck'em." She hissed out, grinding down on the older boy who let out a surprised moan at the action.

"Fuck, Jamie, baby…we got to stop, before I lose it and then you lose something too." Fred whispered huskily into her ear. She let out a whine but moved away and gawked at the large tent in Fred's pants. He was panting, his head against the tree, face flushed, and too James she had never saw something so fucking sexy in her life. She reached out touching it lightly, it twitched at her touch and with wide eyes she looked up into the hooded eyes Fred gazed at her with.

"D…Don't do that." He hissed out, eyes closing a moan leaving his mouth as she rubbed the tent in his pants better.

"Baby, please." Fred said, but James didn't listen unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, she lead him on the other side of the tree pushing his up against the tree, she flicked out her tongue tasting Fred, she suckled at the head of his member liking the taste. Fred moaned louder, hooded eyes gazing down at the girl he loved, his hand came down, intertwining with the silk like hair. She took more into her mouth getting bolder by the noise he made, she didn't have to wait long before she had cum spraying into her mouth, she choked leaning back swallowing the sticky white substance, some trailing down her chin. Fred groaned at the sight, until they heard the students coming. James zipped and buttoned him up, Fred licked his cum off her chin and they kissed heatedly.

"God you two need to get a room." Blaise said as he stumbled upon the couple.

"Here first, fuck off." Fred said before kissing James's jaw lovingingly.

"Oh what's that?" Hermione asked pointing up.

"It's a fat person on a broom." Someone called out.

"It's a hippogriff!" another said.

"It's a bird!" Dennis called out.

"It's a plane!" Collin called out cheekily but the two brothers were beat to finished by Hermione and Harry.

"No, it's superman!" They cackled at the put out looks of the younger boys and the confused looks of the purebloods and half-bloods.

"Idiots." Draco drawled out with a smirk on his face.

"It's obviously-" said George sliding in.

"a Pegasus pulled-" Fred said with a smirk.

"Carriage." James and Draco finished before the twins who pouted at them.

They were right of course, it landed in front of them, a golden carriage being pulled by a white Pegasus and a black one. A tall red headed woman came out of the carriage dwarfing Professor Dumbledore easily, even Hagrid was dwarfed by the tall woman.

"Oooo…it haz ben soz long Dumblydore!" The woman said with a smile that Dumbledore returned and James smirked at the blush Hagrid had coming across his face as he stared at the woman. James gasped as something, a ship came flying out of the lake, and other girls squealed and shrieked at its sudden appearance.

"Wow…" James whispered and Fred smiled down at her.

"Yeah, bunch of show offs aren't they?" He asked twirling a lock of her hair with his finger.

"Yeah, but you have to admit, it is impressive." James said and they all nodded. James leaned into Fred's chest content unaware of the eyes that were looking her over in recognition from the Drumstang Ship. This Twi-wizard tournament just got more interesting to James.

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So you guys like it? I know you do cuz lol. You have been waiting for a juicy scene so =P.

Review please!

KrisxCross out~


	14. Chapter 14

I am the worst writer ever, taking this long to update…I'm ashamed of myself for taking so long. Please enjoy everyone.

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"I don't believe it!" Ron said, in a stunned voice, as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. "Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!"

"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," said Hermione.

"Only a Quidditch player?" Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn't believe his ears. "Hermione - he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"

"I did." James said with a quirky grin, Fred's arm still wrapped around her petite waist. Ron and Draco both pouted at her while Blaise shared a high five.

"As did I." He replied to their questioning looks.

As they recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, James saw Lee Jordan jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head.

"Take a picture Lee, sure you can use that later." James called out. Lee spun around spluttering out denials blushing a dark red.

Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked - "Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me -"

Hermione looked pointedly at Ron, who ignored the look.

"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

Hermione rolled her eyes this time.

"Really," Hermione said loftily as they passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick.

'Like children who have been given a new shiny toy to drool over.'

"I'm getting his autograph if I can," said Ron. James just smirked and tapped her neck, Viktor's signature was still there due to a permanent charm.

"You haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?" Ron asked ignoring James as she slid in through the group and off to greet Viktor.

"Viktor." James called out to the taller boy who turned his head to look over at her. He smiled a small smile at her and accepted the hug from the petite girl.

"Hames." He replied patting her head.

"You're alright aren't you? You seem tired." James said worriedly eyeing the black circle under his eyes.

"I'm vine." Viktor said reassuringly to the small girl who nodded to the boy who stared after her.

She walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down in between Fred and Hermione. Ron took care to sit on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit. The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces.

Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads.

"It's not that cold," said Hermione defensively. "Why didn't they bring cloaks?"

"Idiotic birds." James said with an innocent air causing Fred and Hermione to snort.

"Over here! Come and sit over here!" Ron hissed. "Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space -"

"What?"

"Too late," said Ron bitterly.

Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table.

James could see Draco, Nott, and Blaise looking very smug about this, smirking directly and playfully over at Ron.

As he watched, Draco bent forward to speak to Krum.

"Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Draco," said Ron scathingly.

"I bet Krum can see right through him, though… bet he gets people fawning over him all the time…Where d'you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory, Harry… I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could kip on a camp bed."

"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," said Harry. The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest; a couple of them were picking up the golden plates and goblets and examining them, apparently impressed.

Up at the staff table, Filch, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He was wearing his moldy old tailcoat in honor of the occasion.

James was surprised to see that he added four chairs, two on either side of Dumbledore's.

"But there are only two extra people," Harry said. "Why's Filch putting out four chairs, who else is coming?"

"Eh?" said Ron vaguely. He was still staring avidly at Krum. James smacked him from around Fred.

"Stop it. Think if that was Harry. How'd you think he feels?" James asked going into "mother-hen" mode as the others like to call it. Ron looked properly chastised and looked down.

When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet.

A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly – guests,"said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh. James had silenced her easily, she hated girls that, just like Pansy Parkinson.

"No one's making you stay!" Hermione called out, bristling at her.

"Exactly!" James called out, canceling the silencing charm but smirking smugly when the girl did not respond.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore.

"I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

He sat down, and James saw Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation.

The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them including several that were definitely foreign.

"What's that?" said Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse," said Hermione and James who both eyeing the food with curiosity. Fred and George were both daring the other to try the escargot next to them.

"Bless you," said Ron.

"It's French," said Hermione, "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."

"I'll take your word for it," said Ron, helping himself to black pudding.

"I don't really like it." James and Harry said putting their nose up at it and eyeing the chicken with lemon sauce with hunger.

The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there; perhaps it was because their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts' robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep bloodred.

Hagrid sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end and waved at Harry, Ron, James, the twins, and Hermione with a very heavily bandaged hand.

"Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry called.

"Thrivin'," Hagrid called back happily.

"Yeah, I'll just bet they are," said Ron quietly. "Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers."

At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech. She had finally removed her muffler. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.

Ron went purple.

He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise.

"Go on take it," said James, pushing the dish toward the girl.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?"

"Yeah," Ron said breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."

The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before.

Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.

"She's a veela!" he said hoarsely to Harry.

"Of course she isn't!" said Hermione tartly. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"

But she wasn't entirely right about that. As the girl crossed the Hall, many boys' heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron.

"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" said Ron, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"

"What was that?" James hissed glaring at Ron, Fred had gasped and pulled his girlfriend to him holding her tightly.

"Don't listen to him dear, he's gone insane." Fred exclaimed dramatically. James still glaring huffed and buried herself into her boyfriend's side. Fred glanced up and caught the heated glare coming his way from Viktor Krum and froze slightly before he gripped James tighter only lightening up when James wiggled slightly. The two men glared at each other, the black haired girl completely oblivious as she glared at James.

"I see you as a sister. Of course you don't count." Ron said trying to keep face only to groan when Hermione sniffed indignantly.

"They make them okay at Hogwarts, and you both do not count," said Harry glancing at his cousin and Hermione. Cho happened to be sitting only a few places away from the girl with the silvery hair.

"When you've both put your eyes back in," said Hermione briskly, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived."

She was pointing up at the staff table. The two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr. Crouch, Percy's boss, was next to Madame Maxime.

"What are they doing here?" said Harry in surprise.

"They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they." said James.

"I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."

When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. Ron examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, then moved it carefully a few inches to his right, so that it would be clearly visible from the Ravenclaw table.

The girl who looked like a veela appeared to have eaten enough, however, and did not come over to get it. Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. James felt a slight thrill of excitement, wondering what was coming.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket —"

"The what?" Harry muttered.

Ron shrugged.

"— just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" - there was a smattering of polite applause - "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced.

Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, Harry thought he looked strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush moustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen.

Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames. Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore.

"Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

"An Age Line!" Fred Weasley said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall. "Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing - it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"

"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," said Hermione, "we just haven't learned enough…"

"Speak for yourself," said George shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?"

Harry thought briefly of Dumbledore's insistence that nobody under seventeen should submit their name, but then the wonderful picture of himself winning the Triwizard Tournament filled his mind again…He wondered how angry Dumbledore would be if someone younger than seventeen did find a way to get over the Age Line.

"Where is he?" said Ron, who wasn't listening to a word of this conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum.

"Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?"

But this query was answered almost instantly; they were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.

"Back to the ship, then," he was saying. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

Harry saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on. "Professor, I vood like some vine," said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully.

"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant.

"I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy -"

Karkaroff turned and led his students toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Harry, James, Ron, and Hermione. Harry stopped to let him walk through first.

"Thank you," said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at him.

And then Karkaroff froze.

He turned his head back to Harry and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes.

Behind their headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon his scar.

The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw comprehension dawn on a few of their faces. The boy with food all down his front nudged the girl next to him and pointed openly at Harry's forehead.

Harry immediately flattened his fringe over the blasted scar again.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," said a growling voice from behind them.

'The one who shall kick your arse,' said George in a completely serious voice.

Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster.

The color drained from Karkaroff's face as Harry watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over him.

"You!" he said, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him.

"Me," said Moody grimly. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

It was true; half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind them, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the holdup. Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.

As the next day was Saturday, most students would normally have breakfasted late. Harry, Ron, James, and Hermione, however, were not alone in rising much earlier than they usually did on weekends. When they went down into the entrance hall, they saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the center of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat.

A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked a third-year girl eagerly.

"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," said Harry.

"I would've if it had been me… wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

Someone laughed behind Harry. Turning, he saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.

"Done it," Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Harry, Ron, James, and Hermione. "Just taken it."

"What?" said Ron.

"The Aging Potion, dung brains," said Fred.

"One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," said Hermione warningly. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this."

Fred, George, and Lee ignored her.

"Ready?" Fred said to the other two, quivering with excitement. "C'mon, then - I'll go first -"

James watched, faintly amused, as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words Fred Weasley - Hogwarts. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the entrance hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

For a split second James thought it had worked - George certainly thought so, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred -but next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter.

They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards. James had fallen gasping for breath as she cackled, her friends gathering around to make sure she was okay.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter,and Harry, James, Ron, and Hermione, also chortling, went in to breakfast.

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed this morning. As it was Halloween, a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner. Harry led the way over to Dean and Seamus, who were discussing those Hogwarts students of seventeen or over who might be entering.

"There's a rumor going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in," Dean told Harry. "That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."

Harry, who had played Quidditch against Warrington, shook his head in disgust.

"We can't have a Slytherin champion!"

"And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," said Seamus contemptuously. "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks."

"Listen!" said Hermione suddenly.

People were cheering out in the entrance hall. They all swivelled around in their seats and saw Angelina Johnson coming into the Hall, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way.

A tall black girl who played Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Angelina came over to them, sat down, and said, "Well, I've done it! Just put my name in!"

"You're kidding!" said Ron, looking impressed.

"Are you seventeen, then?" asked Harry.

"Course she is, can't see a beard, can you?" said Ron.

"I had my birthday last week," said Angelina.

"Congratulations, hope you're chosen." James said stiffly with a sweet smile.

"Thank you James." Angelina said politely both of their eyes screaming murder.

"Well, I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering," said Hermione. "I really hope you get it, Angelina!"

"Thanks, Hermione," said Angelina, smiling at her.

"Yeah, better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory," said Seamus, causing several Hufflepuffs passing their table to scowl heavily at him.

"What're we going to do today, then?" Ron asked Harry, James, and Hermione when they had finished breakfast and were leaving the Great Hall.

"We haven't been down to visit Hagrid yet," said Harry.

"Okay," said Ron, "just as long as he doesn't ask us to donate a few fingers to the skrewts."

A look of great excitement suddenly dawned on Hermione's face.

"I've just realized - I haven't asked Hagrid to join S.P.E.W. yet!" she said brightly.

"Wait for me, will you, while I nip upstairs and get the badges?"

"What is it with her?" said Ron, exasperated, as Hermione ran away up the marble staircase.

"Hey, Ron," said Harry suddenly. "It's your friend…"

James snorted seeing what Harry had saw.

The students from Beauxbatons were coming through the front doors from the grounds, among them, the veela-girl. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly.

Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organized them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the Age Line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks.

"What d'you reckon'll happen to the ones who aren't chosen?" Ron muttered to Harry as the veela-girl dropped her parchment into the Goblet of Fire. "Reckon they'll go back to school, or hang around to watch the tournament?"

"Dunno," said Harry. "Hang around, I suppose… Madame Maxime's staying to judge, isn't she?"

When all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime led them back out of the hall and out onto the grounds again.

"Where are they sleeping, then?" said Ron, moving toward the front doors and staring after them.

A loud rattling noise behind them announced Hermione's reappearance with the box of S.P.E.W. badges.

"Oh good, hurry up," said Ron, and he jumped down the stone steps, keeping his eyes on the back of the veela-girl, who was now halfway across the lawn with Madame Maxime.

As they neared Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the mystery of the Beauxbatons' sleeping quarters was solved. The gigantic powder-blue carriage in which they had arrived had been parked two hundred yards from Hagrid's front door, and the students were climbing back inside it. The elephantine flying horses that had pulled the carriage were now grazing in a makeshift paddock alongside it. Harry knocked on Hagrid's door, and Fang's booming barks answered instantly.

"'Bout time!" said Hagrid, when he'd flung open the door. "Thought you lot'd forgotten where I live!"

"We've been really busy, Hag -" Hermione started to say, but then she stopped dead, looking up at Hagrid, apparently lost for words.

Hagrid was wearing his best (and very horrible) hairy brown suit, plus a checked yellow-and-orange tie.

This wasn't the worst of it, though; he had evidently tried to tame his hair, using large quantities of what appeared to be axle grease.

It was now slicked down into two bunches - perhaps he had tried a ponytail like Bill's, but found he had too much hair.

"Hagrid." James said shaking her head and leading the blushing man back into his room and began searching for clothes, before giving up and changing Hagrid's suit into a neat brown trench coat, white button up shirt and tan slacks. She began to tame his hair easily and slowly, Hermione watched in fascination as did the boys as Hagrid's image changed before their eyes. He was still big and hairy, but he seemed to have a bit of class now, his hair was straight and silky looking as James pulled it back into a small pony tail and his beard was more tamed. James nodded at her work and Hagrid smiled at himself in the relfelection charm she had cast on the wall.

"Thank you James." Hagrid said with a warm smile.

"No problem Hagrid, so where are the skrewts?"

"Out by the pumpkin patch," said Hagrid happily. "They're gettin' massive, mus' be nearly three foot long now. On'y trouble is, they've started killin' each other."

"Oh no, really?" said Hermione.

"Yeah," said Hagrid sadly. "S' okay, though, I've got 'em in separate boxes now. Still got abou' twenty."

"Well, that's lucky," said Ron.

Hagrid missed the sarcasm.

Hagrid's cabin comprised a single room, in one corner of which was a gigantic bed covered in a patchwork quilt. A similarly enormous wooden table and chairs stood in front of the fire beneath the quantity of cured hams and dead birds hanging from the ceiling. They sat down at the table while Hagrid started to make tea, and were soon immersed in yet more discussion of the Triwizard Tournament. Hagrid seemed quite as excited about it as they were.

"You wait," he said, grinning. "You jus' wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. Firs' task…ah, but I'm not supposed ter say."

"Go on, Hagrid!" Harry, Ron, James, and Hermione urged him, but he just shook his head, grinning.

"I don' want ter spoil it fer yeh," said Hagrid. "But it's gonna be spectacular, I'll tell yeh that. Them champions're going ter have their work cut out. Never thought I'd live ter see the Triwizard Tournament played again!"

They ended up having lunch with Hagrid, though they didn't eat much – Hagrid had made what he said was a beef casserole, but after Hermione unearthed a large talon in hers, she, Harry, James, and Ron rather lost their appetites. However, they enjoyed themselves trying to make Hagrid tell them what the tasks in the tournament were going to be, speculating which of the entrants were likely to be selected as champions, and wondering whether Fred and George were beardless yet.

A light rain had started to fall by midafternoon; it was very cozy sitting by the fire, listening to the gentle patter of the drops on the window, watching Hagrid darning his socks and arguing with Hermione about house-elves - for he flatly refused to join S.P.E.W. when she showed him her badges.

"It'd be doin' 'em an unkindness, Hermione," he said gravely, threading a massive bone needle with thick yellow yarn. "It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin' 'em unhappy ter take away their work, an' insutin' 'em if yeh tried ter pay 'em."

"But Harry set Dobby free, and he was over the moon about it!" said Hermione. "And we heard he's asking for wages now!"

"Yeah, well, yeh get weirdos in every breed. I'm not sayin' there isn't the odd elf who'd take freedom, but yeh'll never persuade most of 'em ter do it - no, nothin' doin', Hermione."

Hermione looked very cross indeed and stuffed her box of badges back into her cloak pocket.

By half past five it was growing dark, and Ron, Harry, James, and Hermione decided it was time to get back up to the castle for the Halloween feast - and, more important, the announcement of the school champions.

"I'll come with yeh," said Hagrid, putting away his darning. "Jus' give us a sec."

Hagrid got up, went across to the chest of drawers beside his bed, and began searching for something inside it. They didn't pay too much attention until a truly horrible smell reached their nostrils.

Coughing, Ron said, "Hagrid, what's that?"

"Eh?" said Hagrid, turning around with a large bottle in his hand. "Don' yeh like it?"

"Is that aftershave?" said Hermione in a slightly choked voice.

"Er - eau de cologne," Hagrid muttered. He was blushing.

"Maybe it's a bit much," he said gruffly. "I'll go take it off, hang on…"

"wait." James cast a dispelling charm and Hagrid didn't smell anymore.

"Look!" said Ron suddenly, pointing out of the window. Hagrid had just straightened up and turned 'round. If he had been blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now.

Getting to their feet very cautiously, so that Hagrid wouldn't spot them, Harry, Ron, James, and Hermione peered through the window and saw that Madame Maxime and the Beauxbatons students had just emerged from their carriage, clearly about to set off for the feast too. They couldn't hear what Hagrid was saying, but he was talking to Madame Maxime with a rapt, misty-eyed expression Harry had only ever seen him wear once before - when he had been looking at the baby dragon, Norbert.

"He's going up to the castle with her!" said Hermione indignantly. "I thought he was waiting for us!"

Without so much as a backward glance at his cabin, Hagrid was trudging off up the grounds with Madame Maxime, the Beaux-batons students following in their wake, jogging to keep up with their enormous strides.

"He fancies her!" said Ron incredulously. "Well, if they end up having children, they'll be setting a world record - bet any baby of theirs would weigh about a ton."

They let themselves out of the cabin and shut the door behind them. It was surprisingly dark outside. Drawing their cloaks more closely around themselves, they set off up the sloping lawns.

"Ooh it's them, look!" Hermione whispered.

The Durmstrang party was walking up toward the castle from the lake. Viktor Krum was walking side by side with Karkaroff, and the other Durmstrang students were straggling along behind them. Ron watched Krum excitedly, but Krum did not look around as he reached the front doors a little ahead of Hermione, Ron, James, and Harry and proceeded through them.

When they entered the candlelit Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. Fred and George - clean-shaven again -seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well.

"Hope it's Angelina," said Fred as James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down.

Angelina smiled at Fred. George frowned but quickly hid it.

"So do I!" said Hermione breathlessly. "Well, we'll soon know!"

The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Perhaps because it was their second feast in two days, James didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as she would have normally. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet,

Harry simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students.

Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" - he indicated the door behind the staff table - "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness.

The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting… A few people kept checking their watches…

"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, two seats away from Harry.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it - the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

"It's her, Ron!" Harry shouted as the girl who so resembled a veela got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. "Disappointed" was a bit of an understatement, Harry thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.

When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next…

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is…James Black?"

In the Hall, there was a moment of silence, all eyes going to the spluttering shocked girl. Fred pushed her forward lightly a worried look on his face, knowing truthfully that James didn't even want him to be into the tournament. The uproar from the next table was too great. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as James made her way past them, ducking her head, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the outraged cries for James went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called a bit anxiously as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out - "Harry Potter."


	15. Chapter 15

I would like to tell everyone, thank you for not telling me that I am not the worst writer ever. It meant so much…love the sarcasm people lol. Enjoy!

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A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him. The faces in the portraits turned to look at him as he entered. He saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus mustache. The wizened witch started whispering in his ear.

Viktor Krum, James Black, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. James was leaning against the wall with her eyes shadowed by her hair, staring into the fire.

Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.

"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?"

"What's wrong Harry?" James asked moving towards him and staring up into his eyes with her thoughtful blue-silver eyes.

There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took Harry and James by the arms and led them forward.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Harry's and James's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen… ladies," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the fourth Triwizard champion?"

Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. James seemed to have went into shock, she had paled drastically and was shaking. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. James seemed to choke on air. Fleur frowned.

"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

"Not likely. I'm not old enough either." James said folding her arms across her chest.

"You are?" Fleur asked surveying the shorter witch eyeing James's body that was very filled out.

"I am a Black, it runs in the genes." James snapped holding her frame blushing with a scowl on her pretty face.

"Well… it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at them.

"But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as their names came out of the goblet… I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage…It's down in the rules, you're obliged… Harry and James will just have to do the best they —"

"I'm going to die." James wailed dramatically hugging Harry, who held her with a half-hearted smile, "I'm a small little pureblood witch. That's all I've got going for me."

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. They both heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy and girl is to compete also!"

James glared darkly at the witch, she was just jealous.

"Jealous my chest is bigger, damn veela." James muttered and Harry who heard choked on a laugh.

Little boy? Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions – or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

He gave a short and nasty laugh.

"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's and Black's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly.

"Oh fuck you!" James snarled only to have Harry slap a hand on to her mouth. James and Snape glared darkly at each other.

His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's and Black's determination to break rules. They have been crossing lines ever since they arrived here -"

"Suck it!" Harry snapped this time and James put a hand to his mouth so they both couldn't curse the wizard.

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair.

Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at them both, who looked right back at them, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles. They felt something touch their mind shields and they both narrowed their eyes at Dumbledore, how dare he?

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry, Miss Black?" he asked calmly.

"No," said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.

"We didn't you fucking dick." James snapped eyes narrowed, her small frame wound up, a dark red spreading across her cheeks.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.

"No," said James vehemently.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"Comment osez-vous m'accuser de mentir!" James snarled in french her eyes alight with pure rage.

"bien que vous mentez-vous pas, vous prostituée peu?" Madame Maxime said in a bored sort of voice and Fleur giggled. However McGonagall looked furious with James.

"Comment osez-vous m'appeler une prostituée? Vous salope envahi!" James snarled.

"Comment osez-vous appeler mon élève une prostituée?" McGonagall snarled out in rage putting an arm on her student shoulders.

McGonagall shot Snape a furious look.

"They could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that -"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

"Nez en l'air, collée, putain envahi." James snarled out and Fleur gasped and glared at James who glared right back.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily.

"Really, what nonsense! They could not have crossed the line themselves, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that they did not persuade an older student to do it for them, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!"

She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.

"Mr. Crouch… Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance.

When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament -"

"- in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk. James eyes narrowed at the man, he smelled of potion. He also seemed to have spilled it on his coat, the smell was familiar, very familiar. James couldn't put her finger on it, but she was sure she had smelled that certain potion before.

"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody." James could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.

"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's and Black's names in that goblet knowing they'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards -"

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter and Black," growled Moody,

"but… funny thing… I don't hear them saying a word…"

"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot.

"E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honour for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Screw you, have enough money to live happily as does Harry. I want to live bitch, not fucking put myself in danger for some once in a lifetime glory!" James spat, she had gone on the defensive.

"I'm pulling a fucking Malfoy, My father will hear about this!" James growled eyes blazing, Snape looked quite ill at the prospect, Dumbledore grim, McGonagall in a agreement with Harry.

"Maybe someone's hoping they are going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.

An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man…what a thing to say!"

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly.

"Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons."

"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet…"

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.

"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament… I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category… Black was just unlucky."

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is - though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously…"

"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember…"

"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction - Karkaroff's face was burning.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room.

"It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both James and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do…"

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr -"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either. Snape looked furious; Karkaroff livid; Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honours?"

Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.

"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes… the first task…"

He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, James thought he looked ill.

There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, James, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… very important. The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests." Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that's all, is it, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr. Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment… I've left young Weatherby in charge… Very enthusiastic… a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told…"

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.

"Come on, Barty, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff - Madame Maxime - a nightcap?" said Dumbledore . But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. James could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.

"Harry, Miss Black, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor is waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Harry glanced at James, who nodded, and they left together.

The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality.

"So," Said James with fake excitement, "Back into the chamber them?"

"I s'pose," said Harry. He really couldn't think of anything to say. The inside of his head seemed to be in complete disarray, as though his brain had been ransacked.

"So… tell me…" said James as they reached the entrance hall, which was now lit only by torches in the absence of the Goblet of Fire. "Do you have any idea who put our names in?"

"I'd say the twins as a joke, but they couldn't even put their own name in to the cup," said Harry, staring down at her. "I didn't put it in and you didn't even like the idea of the tournament so…"

"Ah… so, off to see the grim reaper we go!" said James. Harry could tell James was scared to death.

"Well… lets go."

Was anyone except the Twins, Ron, Draco, Blaise, and Hermione going to believe them, or would they all think they'd put themselves in for the tournament?

Yet how could anyone think that, when they were facing competitors who'd had three years' more magical education than they had - when they were now facing tasks that not only sounded very dangerous, but which were to be performed in front of hundreds of people? Yes, Harry'd thought about it… he'd fantasized about it…but it had been a joke, really, an idle sort of dream… he'd never really, seriously considered entering...

But someone else had considered it… someone else had wanted him in the tournament, and had made sure he was entered. Why? To give him a treat?

He didn't think so, somehow… To see him make a fool of himself? Well, they were likely to get their wish…But to get him killed? Was Moody just being his usual paranoid self? Couldn't someone have put Harry's name in the goblet as a trick, a practical joke? Did anyone really want him dead? Why was James, brought into it? Surely everyone knew that the blue eyed witch didn't like the tournament? She had vocaly said she would rather kiss Nott then even think about joining the tournament, Harry wasn't going to remind of that though…he wasn't suicidal…maybe.

Harry was able to answer that at once.

Yes, someone wanted him dead, someone had wanted him dead ever since he had been a year old… Lord Voldemort. But why James? Did he hold a grudge from her helping him?

But how could Voldemort have ensured that Harry's name got into the Goblet of Fire? Voldemort was supposed to be far away, in some distant country, in hiding, alone… feeble and powerless… Yet in that dream he had had, just before he had awoken with his scar hurting, Voldemort had not been alone… he had been talking to Wormtail… plotting Harry's murder.

Harry got a shock to find himself facing the Fat Lady already. He had barely noticed where his feet were carrying him. It was also a surprise to see that she was not alone in her frame. The wizened witch who had flitted into her neighbour's painting when he had joined the champions downstairs was now sitting smugly beside the Fat Lady. She must have dashed through every picture lining seven staircases to reach here before him. James looked very tired and pale, he could practically see the thought running through her head, "Fred." She needed comfort from Fred, he knew, he also knew that Fred was being used for a replacement for Sirius at the moment.

Both she and the Fat Lady were looking down at him with the keenest interest.

"Well, well, well," said the Fat Lady, "Violet's just told me everything. Who's just been chosen as school champion, then?"

"Balderdash," said Harry dully.

"It most certainly isn't!" said the pale witch indignantly.

"No, no, Vi, it's the password," said the Fat Lady soothingly, and she swung forward on her hinges to let Harry and James into the common room.

The blast of noise that met James's ears when the portrait opened almost knocked her backward. Harry barely prevented that.

Next thing they knew, they were being wrenched inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and was facing the whole of Gryffindor House, all of whom were screaming, applauding, and whistling.

"You should've told us you'd entered!" bellowed Fred; he looked half annoyed, half deeply impressed.

"How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared George.

"We didn't," Harry said. "I don't know how -"

But Angelina had now swooped down upon them; "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor -"

"We've got food come and have some -"

"I'm not hungry, I had enough at the feast -"

But nobody wanted to hear that they wasn't hungry; nobody wanted to hear that they hadn't put their name in the goblet; not one single person seemed to have noticed that they weren't at all in the mood to celebrate…

Lee Jordan had unearthed a Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and he insisted on draping it around Harry like a cloak.

Harry couldn't get away; whenever he tried to sidle over to the staircase up to the dormitories, the crowd around him closed ranks, forcing another butterbeer on him, stuffing crisps and peanuts into his hands…

Everyone wanted to know how he had done it, how he had tricked Dumbledore's Age Line and managed to get his name into the goblet… James however seemed to have some luck getting Fred to listen as they talked in a corner, Fred no looked pale as he held her to his chest.

"I'm tired!" he bellowed finally, after nearly half an hour. "No, seriously, George - I'm going to bed -"

He wanted more than anything to find Ron and Hermione, to find a bit of sanity, but neither of them seemed to be in the common room. Insisting that he needed to sleep, and almost flattening the little Creevey brothers as they attempted to waylay him at the foot of the stairs,Harry managed to shake everyone off and climb up to the dormitory as fast as he could.

To his great relief, he found Ron was lying on his bed in the otherwise empty dormitory, still fully dressed.

He looked up when Harry slammed the door behind him.

"Where've you been?" Harry said.

"Oh hello," said Ron.

He was grinning, but it was a very odd, strained sort of grin.

Harry suddenly became aware that he was still wearing the scarlet Gryffindor banner that Lee had tied around him. He hastened to take it off, but it was knotted very tightly.

Ron lay on the bed without moving, watching Harry struggle to remove it.

"So," he said, when Harry had finally removed the banner and thrown it into a corner. "Congratulations."

"What d'you mean, congratulations?" said Harry, staring at Ron. There was definitely something wrong with the way Ron was smiling: It was more like a grimace.

"Well…no one else got across the Age Line," said Ron. "Not even Fred and George. What did you use - the Invisibility Cloak?"

"The Invisibility Cloak wouldn't have got me over that line," said Harry slowly.

"Oh right," said Ron. "I thought you might've told me if it was the cloak… because it would've covered both of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?"

"Listen," said Harry, "I didn't put my name in that goblet. Someone else must've done it."

Ron raised his eyebrows.

"What would they do that for?"

"I dunno," said Harry. He felt it would sound very melodramatic to say, "To kill me."

Ron's eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair.

"It's okay, you know, you can tell me the truth," he said. "If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie, you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? That friend of the Fat Lady's, that Violet, she's already told us all Dumbledore's letting you enter. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And you don't have to do end-of-year tests either…"

"I didn't put my name in that goblet!" said Harry, starting to feel angry.

"Yeah, okay," said Ron, in exactly the same sceptical tone as Dumbledore had.

"Only you said this morning you'd have done it last night, and no one would've seen you… I'm not stupid, you know."

"You're doing a really good impression of it," Harry snapped.

"Yeah?" said Ron, and there was no trace of a grin, forced or otherwise, on his face now. "You want to get to bed, Harry. I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photo-call or something."

He wrenched the hangings shut around his four-poster, leaving Harry standing there by the door, staring at the dark red velvet curtains, now hiding one of the few people he had been sure would believe him.

Fred took James upstairs to his room, George and Lee followed as the girl was shaky and pale.

"Tell me what happened love? I know you wouldn't put your name in the goblet without telling me how." Fred said petting the girl's head, trying to lighten the mood. He received a punch to the shoulder for his efforts.

"We have to compete. I don't want to." James said with a very choked voice and the other older boys came closer to see she had a terrified look on her face.

"Shhh, everything will be alright love." Fred whispered holding her tightly.

"No it's not, I'm gonna die." James broke sobbing as she held on to Fred like he was a life line.

"Shhhh." Fred murmured holding his sobbing girlfriend who was near hysterics.

"You're not going to die." George said fiercely rubbing the girl's back.

"Yeah, you're the brightest witch of your year, hell you could duel a seventh year and win if you tried." Lee said pinching her cheek. James forced a smile at the them and soon fell asleep with the boys as they talked throughout the night.

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The French parts were basically James saying, "How dare you accuse me of lying."

Madam Maxine basically calling James a Harlot and a liar.

Pissing James off to call her, "Nose up in the air, stuck up, overgrown whore."

McGonagall, " how dare you call my student a harlot!"

So yeah, hoped you liked it!


	16. Chapter 16

So yeah, I've kept you guys waiting sorry about that. Hope you like this chapter =D

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When James woke up on Sunday morning, it took her a moment to remember why she felt so warm and cozy. Then the memory of the previous night rolled over her. She sat up and felt the Twins arms slid off her waist she sighed lightly to see the time was only five in the morning, kissing Fred's lips and George's forehead she slipped out of the male dormitory and into her dorm. She slid into her bed with a sniffling sigh and fell into a deep sleep. She woke however with a start when Hermione nudge her awake.

James dressed and went down the spiral staircase into the common room. The moment she appeared, the people who had already finished breakfast broke into applause again. The prospect of going down into the Great Hall and facing the rest of the Gryffindors, all treating her like some sort of hero, was not inviting; it left a bad taste in her mouth and her stomach hurt. Walking out of the portrait hole she came face to face with Blaise.

"Hello," he said, holding up a stack of toast, which he was carrying in a napkin. "I brought you this… Want to go for a walk?"

"That would be Brilliant." James told him with a smile and taking a piece of toast to nibble on.

They went downstairs, crossed the entrance hall quickly without looking in at the Great Hall, and were soon striding across the lawn toward the lake, where the Durmstrang ship was moored, reflected blackly in the water. It was a chilly morning, and they kept moving, munching their toast, as James told Blaise exactly what had happened after she had left the Gryffindor table the night before.

To her immense relief, Blaise accepted her story without question.

"Well, of course I knew you hadn't entered yourself," he said when she'd finished telling him about the scene in the chamber off the Hall. "The look on your face when Dumbledore read out your name! But the question is, who did put it in? Because Moody's right, Harry… I don't think any student could have done it… they'd never be able to fool the Goblet, or get over Dumbledore's -"

"Have you seen Harry?" James interrupted.

Blaise hesitated.

"Erm… yes… he was at breakfast," he said.

"How is he doing?"

"Well… it seems Ron believes you two put your names in the cup." said Blaise awkwardly.

"What do you mean?" James asked with shock in her voice pain shot through her body, Ron was her _friend_ right?

"Of course it's probably a bit…okay" Blaise said despairingly. "He's jealous!"

"Jealous?" James asked incredulously. "Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?"

"Look," said Blaise patiently, "it's always you or Harry who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it's not your fault," he added quickly, seeing James open her mouth in defense. "I know you don't ask for it… but - well - you know, Ron's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friend, and you're really famous - he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many…"

"Great," said James said close to tears. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it… If he wants the chance to die a horrible death he can have it."

"James... "Blaise said with worry, "I'm sure he'll get over it… James come back."

"I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!" James finally snapped tears falling, so loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took flight in alarm. "Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or -"

"That's not funny," said Blaise shouted. "That's not funny at all." He looked extremely terrified. "James, I've been thinking - you know what we've got to do, don't you? Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?"

"Sick Fred and George on Ron, It'd give me a laugh."

"Write to Sirius. You've got to tell him what's happened. He asked you and Harry to keep him posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts… It's almost as if he expected something like this to happen. I brought some parchment and a quill out with me -"

"Planned on it," said James, her face stern. "He'll come running back to the country with such a foul temper, that I'm kind of scared of what he'll do."

"Good," said Blaise sternly his arm coming to pat her head.

"I'm still going to have to Compete Blaise." James said, throwing her last piece of toast into the lake. They both stood and watched it floating there for a moment, before a large tentacle rose out of the water and scooped it beneath the surface. Then they returned to the castle.

They went up to the Owlery. Blaise gave James a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink, then strolled around the long lines of perches, looking at all the different owls, while James sat down against a wall and wrote her letter.

Daddy,

You told me to keep you posted on what's happening at Hogwarts, so here goes – I don't know if you've heard, but the Triwizard Tournament's happening this year and on Saturday night I got picked as the Hogwarts champion, Harry was chosen as the fourth. I don't who put our names in the Goblet of Fire, because I know for a fact I didn't. Plus Harry wouldn't lie so he didn't either.

She paused at this point, thinking. She had an urge to say something about the large weight of anxiety that seemed to have settled inside her chest since the beginning of the year with mad eye, but she couldn't think how to translate this into words, so she simply dipped her quill back into the ink bottle and wrote,

I'm scared and really need a hug.

Jaybird

"Finished," she told Blaise, getting to her feet and brushing straw off her robes. At this, Hedwig fluttered down onto her shoulder and held out her leg.

"I can always count on you," James told her, looking around for the school owls.

Hedwig gave a very proud hoot and preened as she tied the letter to the proud owl's leg. Hedwig gave her a affectionate nuzzle to the neck and nip to her ear before taking flight.

If James had thought that matters would improve once everyone got used to the idea of her and Harry being champion, the following day showed her how mistaken she was. She could no longer avoid the rest of the school once she was back at lessons - and it was clear that the rest of the school, just like the Gryffindors, thought they had entered themself for the tournament. Unlike the Gryffindors, however, they did not seem impressed.

The Hufflepuffs, who were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors, had turned remarkably cold toward the whole lot of them. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this. It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that James had stolen their chosen one's chance of glory; a feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Hufflepuff House very rarely got any glory, and that Cedric was one of the few who had ever given them any, having beaten Gryffindor once at Quidditch.

Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch Fletchley, with whom Harry normally got on very well, did not talk to him even though they were repotting Bouncing Bulbs at the same tray - though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grip and smacked him hard in the face. James was near tears as she ragged upon by the Hufflepuff girls having had her shell opened a bit the words stung because they were uncalled for. Ron wasn't talking to them either. Hermione sat between Harry and Ron, making very forced conversation, but though both answered her normally, they avoided making eye contact with each other.

James thought even Professor Sprout seemed distant with them - but then, she was Head of Hufflepuff House.

She would have been looking forward to seeing Hagrid under normal circumstances, but Care of Magical Creatures meant seeing the Slytherins too – the first time he would come face-to-face with Nott since becoming champion.

Predictably, Nott arrived at Hagrid's cabin with his familiar sneer firmly in place.

"Ah, look, boys, it's the champion," he said to Crabbe and Goyle the moment he got within earshot of James "Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt she's going to be around much longer… Half the Triwizard champions have died… how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Black? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet."

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed sycophantically, but Nott had to stop there, because Hagrid emerged from the back of his cabin balancing a teetering tower of crates, each containing a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt. To the class's horror, Hagrid proceeded to explain that the reason the skrewts had been killing one another was an excess of pent-up energy, and that the solution would be for each student to fix a leash on a skrewt and take it for a short walk. The only good thing about this plan was that it distracted Nott completely.

"Take this thing for a walk?" he repeated in disgust, staring into one of the boxes. "And where exactly are we supposed to fix the leash? Around the sting, the blasting end, or the sucker?"

"Roun' the middle," said Hagrid, demonstrating. "Er - yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like. Harry…James - you come here an' help me with this big one…

Hagrid's real intention, however, was to talk to Harry away from the rest of the class. He waited until everyone else had set off with their skrewts, then turned to Harry and said, very seriously, "So - yer competin', Harry, James. In the tournament. School's champions."

"champions," James said in disgust.

Hagrid's beetle-black eyes looked very anxious under his wild eyebrows.

"No idea who put yeh in fer it, yeh two?"

"You believe we didn't do it, then?" said Harry, concealing with difficulty the rush of gratitude he felt at Hagrid's words.

"Course I do," Hagrid grunted. "Yeh say it wasn' yeh both, an' I believe yeh - an' Dumbledore believes yer, an' all."

"Wish I knew who did do it," said James with a frown.

The three of them looked out over the lawn; the class was widely scattered now, and all in great difficulty. The skrewts were now over three feet long, and extremely powerful. No longer shell-less and colorless, they had developed a kind of thick, grayish, shiny armor. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs - but still without recognizable heads or eyes. They had become immensely strong and very hard to control.

"Look like they're havin' fun, don' they?" Hagrid said happily. James assumed he was talking about the skrewts, because her classmates certainly weren't; every now and then, with an alarming bang, one of the skrewts' ends would explode, causing it to shoot forward several yards, and more than one person was being dragged along on their stomach, trying desperately to get back on their feet.

"Ah, I don' know," Hagrid sighed suddenly, looking back down at them with a worried expression on his face. "School champion… everythin' seems ter happen ter yeh both, doesn' it?"

James didn't answer. Yes, everything did seem to happen to them… that was more or less what Blaise had said as they had walked around the lake, and that was the reason, according to him, that Ron was no longer talking to them. The next few days were some of James's worst at Hogwarts. The closest she had ever come to feeling like this had been during those months, in her third year, when a large part of the school had suspected her of letting her father into the school. But she had Charlie to fall back on, and the twins as well. The twins however seemed more interested in what Angelina and Alicia were saying than to see that Fred's girlfriend was about to break down. Charlie too had not answered her letters at all.

She could understand the Hufflepuffs' attitude, even if she didn't like it; they had been devastated when Cedric hadn't been chosen. She expected nothing less than vicious insults from the Slytherins - she was highly unpopular there and always had been, because she had helped Gryffindor beat them so often, both at Quidditch and in the Inter-House Championship. But she had hoped the Ravenclaws might have found it in their hearts to support her as much as they were Harry. She was wrong, however. Most Ravenclaws seemed to think that she had been desperate to earn herself a bit of fame by tricking the goblet into accepting her name.

Then there was the fact that Harry looked the part of a champion so much more than she did. Harry was the savior of the wizarding world, and she was starting to see Harry letting this fame get to his head, after all this didn't cost him his parents.

Meanwhile there was no reply from Sirius, Hedwig had not returned. She was starting to think her dad was going to think she was trying to pull a marauder and had failed epically.

"He'll write back soon," Blaise tried to reassure her as they left Vector's class – he had to make her concentrate hard in the class "You just need to start concentrating in class until the letter or himself comes -"

"that's not all that's distracting me," said James darkly as Harry walked past, surrounded by a large group of simpering girls, all of whom looked at James as though she were a particularly large Blast-Ended Skrewt. "Still - never mind, eh? Double Potions to look forward to this afternoon..."

Double Potions was always a horrible experience, but these days it was nothing short of torture. Being shut in a dungeon for an hour and a half with Snape and the Slytherins, all of whom seemed determined to punish James as much as possible for daring to become school champion, was about the most unpleasant thing James could imagine. She had already struggled through one Friday's worth, with Draco sitting next to her intoning "ignore them, ignore them, ignore them" under his breath, and she couldn't see why today should be any better.

When she and Blaise arrived at Snape's dungeon after lunch, they found the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes. For one wild moment James thought they were S.P.E.W. badges -then she saw that they all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage:

SUPPORT NO ONE—THE CUP WAS RIGGED.

"Like them, Black?" said Nott loudly as James approached. "And this isn't all they do - look!"

He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green: BLACK'S A CHEAT.

The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message BLACK'S A CHEAT was shining brightly all around James. She felt slight numb, an icy chill going through her, her eyes felt dry and her vision hazed a bit.

"Oh very funny," Hermione said sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone, "really witty."

Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't sticking up for James either, as were the other boys.

"Want one, Granger?" said Nott, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."

Some of the anger James had been feeling for days and days seemed to burst through a dam in her chest. She had reached for her wand before she'd thought what she was doing. People all around them scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor.

"James!" Blaise said warningly with Hermione.

"Go on, then, Black," Nott said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you unlike Potter- do it, if you've got the guts-"

For a split second, they looked into each other's eyes, then, at exactly the same time, both acted.

"Funnunculus!" James yelled.

"Densaugeo!" screamed Nott.

Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in midair, and ricocheted off at angles — James's hit Goyle in the face, and Nott's hit Hermione.

Goyle bellowed and put his hands to his nose, where great ugly boils were springing up - Hermione, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.

"Hermione!"

Ron had hurried forward to see what was wrong with her; James turned and saw Ron dragging Hermione's hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. Hermione's front teeth - already larger than average - were now growing at an alarming rate; she was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, toward her chin - panic-stricken, she felt them and let out a terrified cry.

"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice.

Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamoured to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Nott and said, "Explain."

"Black attacked me, sir -"

"We attacked each other at the same time!" James shouted.

"- and he hit Goyle - look -"

Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.

"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly.

"Nott got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!"

He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth - she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles, pointing at Hermione from behind Snape's back.

Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran, ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight.

It was lucky, perhaps, that all three James, Harry, and Ron started shouting at Snape at the same time; lucky their voices echoed so much in the stone corridor, for in the confused din, it was impossible for him to hear exactly what they were calling him. He got the gist, however.

"Let's see," he said, in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Black, Potter, and Weasley. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."

James's ears were ringing. The injustice of it made her want to curse Snape into a thousand slimy pieces. She passed Snape, walked with Ron to the back of the dungeon, and slammed his bag down onto the table. Ron was shaking with anger too - for a moment, it felt as though everything was back to normal between them, but then Ron turned and sat down with Dean and Seamus instead, leaving James alone at her table. On the other side of the dungeon, Nott turned his back on Snape and pressed his badge, smirking. BLACKS A CHEAT flashed once more across the room. James sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him… If only she knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse… she stopped the thought so fast she started much to the relief of Draco and Blaise who were staring at her with worry. Harry was sitting with some over with Parvati and Lavender.

"Antidotes!" said Snape, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one…"

Snape's eyes met James's, and James knew what was coming. Snape was going to poison her. James imagined picking up her cauldron, and sprinting to the front of the class, and bringing it down on Snape's greasy head -

And then a knock on the dungeon door burst in on James's thoughts.

It was Colin Creevey; he edged into the room, beaming at James and Harry, walked up to Snape's desk at the front of the room.

"Yes?" said Snape curtly.

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter and James Black upstairs." Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face.

"Potter and Black has another hour of Potions to complete," said Snape coldly. "They will come upstairs when this class is finished."

Colin went pink.

"Sir - sir, Mr. Bagman wants them," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs…"

Jaes would have given anything she owned to have stopped Colin saying those last few words. She chanced half a glance at Ron, but Ron was staring determinedly at the ceiling. Harry seemed to seem interested.

"Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, Black, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote."

"Please, sir - They got to take their things with them," squeaked Colin. "All the champions…"

"Very well!" said Snape. "Black! Potter - take your bag and get out of my sight!"

James swung her bag over her shoulder, got up, and headed for the door. As she walked through the Slytherin desks, BLACK'S A CHEAT flashed at her from every direction.

"It's amazing, isn't it, you two?" said Colin, starting to speak the moment Harry and James had closed the dungeon door behind him. "Isn't it, though? You two being champions?"

"Yeah, really amazing," said Harry heavily as they set off toward the steps into the entrance hall. "What do they want photos for, Colin?"

"The Daily Prophet, I think!"

"I refuse" said James her voice cold. "Rita can go fuck herself."

"Good luck…" said Colin with a forced smile when they had reached the right room. They knocked on the door and entered.

She was in a fairly small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet. Five chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch James had never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes.

Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody. Fleur was flicking her nails. Fleur looked a good deal happier than James had seen her so far; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light.

A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye.

Bagman suddenly spotted them, got up quickly, and bounded forward.

"Ah, here they are! Champion number three and four! In you come, Harry, James, in you come… nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment -"

"Wand weighing?" James questioned.

"We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photoshoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward the witch in magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet…"

"Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes on Harry.

Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jewelled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.

"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?" she said to Bagman, but still gazing fixedly at Harry. "The youngest champion, you know… to add a bit of color?"

"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is - if Harry has no objection?"

"Er -" said Harry.

"Lovely," said Rita Skeeter, and in a second, her scarlet-taloned fingers had Harry's upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, and she was steering him out of the room again and opening a nearby door.

"We don't want to be in there with all that noise," she said. "Let's see… ah, yes, this is nice and cozy."

It was a broom cupboard. Harry stared at her.

"Come along, dear - that's right - lovely," said Rita Skeeter again, perching herself precariously upon an upturned bucket, pushing Harry down onto a cardboard box, and closing the door, throwing them into darkness. "Let's see now…"

James however came in and dragged Harry out her eyes cold like ice and glared at Rita who spluttered after them.

"You leave Harry alone, Skeeter." James hissed her voice deadly and Rita flinched.

Rita Skeeter's smile disappeared. Harry finally could see the affect every thing was having on his cousin and he nodded at what she said. He could hit himself for the way he had been acting, what the hell was he thinking?

"Lovely," said Rita Skeeter, yet again, her eyes hard on James who finally upped her glare up a notch and Rita backed down scurrying on to Viktor who just ignored her.

"Dumbledore!" cried Rita Skeeter, with every appearance of delight - but James noticed that her quill and the parchment had suddenly vanished from the box of Magical Mess Remover, and Rita's clawed fingers were hastily snapping shut the clasp of her crocodile-skin bag.

"How are you?" she said, standing up and holding out one of her large, mannish hands to Dumbledore. "I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?"

"Enchantingly nasty," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat."

Rita Skeeter didn't look remotely abashed.

"I was just making the point that some of your ideas are a little old-fashioned, Dumbledore, and that many wizards in the street -"

"I will be delighted to hear the reasoning behind the rudeness, Rita," said Dumbledore, with a courteous bow and a smile, "but I'm afraid we will have to discuss the matter later. The Weighing of the Wands is about to start, and it cannot take place if one of our champions is hidden in a broom cupboard."

The other champions were now sitting in chairs near the door, and James sat down quickly next to Viktor, hooking up at the velvet-covered table, where four of the five judges were now sitting - Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Mr. Crouch, and Ludo Bagman. Rita Skeeter settled herself down in a corner; James saw her slip the parchment out of her bag again, spread it on her knee, suck the end of the Quick-Quotes Quill, and place it once more on the parchment.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

James hooked around, and with a jolt of surprise saw an old wizard with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. James had met Mr. Ollivander before - he was the wand-maker from whom James had bought her own wand over three years ago in Diagon Alley.

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.

Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him her wand.

"Hmm…" he said.

He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it chose to his eyes and examined it carefully.

"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches… inflexible… rosewood… and containing… dear me…"

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's."

So Fleur was part veela, thought James making a mental note to tell Ron… then she remembered that Ron wasn't speaking to her.

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands… however, to each his own, and if this suits you…"

Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.

"Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Ms. Black, you next." Fleur glided back to her seat, frowing at James as she passed her.

"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Mr. Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as James handed over her wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single feather from the tail of a particularly fine female phoenix … must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his claws after I plucked his tail. Eight and a quarter inches… Blackwood… nice and sturdy. It's in fine condition… You treat it regularly?"

"Not as much as I'd like too," said James a bit regretfully.

Mr. Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of James's wand, pronounced himself satisfied, and then said, "Mr. Krum, if you please."

Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duck-footed, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes.

"Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I…

He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.

"Yes… hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees… quite rigid… ten and a quarter inches… Avis!"

The hornbeam wand let off a blast hike a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.

"Good," said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand. "Which leaves… Mr. Potter."

Harry got to his feet and walked past Krum to Mr. Ollivander. He handed over his wand.

"Aaaah, yes," said Mr. Ollivander, his pale eyes suddenly gleaming. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember."

Harry could remember too. He could remember it as though it had happened yesterday…

Four summers ago, on his eleventh birthday, he had entered Mr. Ollivander's shop with James and Hagrid to buy a wand. Mr. Ollivander had taken his measurements and then started handing him wands to try. Harry had waved what felt like every wand in the shop, until at last he had found the one that suited him - this one, which was made of holly, eleven inches long, and contained a single feather from the tail of a phoenix. Mr. Ollivander had been very surprised that Harry had been so compatible with this wand. "Curious," he had said, "curious," and not until Harry asked what was curious had

Ollivander explained that the phoenix feather in Harry's wand had come from the same bird that had supplied the core of Lord Voldemort's.

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort's wand was something it couldn't help - rather as he couldn't help being related to Aunt Petunia. However, he really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn't about to tell the room about it. He had a funny feeling Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.

Mr. Ollivander spent much longer examining Harry's wand than anyone else's. Eventually, however, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to Harry, announcing that it was still in perfect condition.

"Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now - or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end-"

Feeling that at last something had gone right today, Harry got up to leave, but the man with the black camera jumped up and cleared his throat.

"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Er - yes, let's do those first," said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Harry again. "And then perhaps some individual shots."

The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into the frame; eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl; Krum, whom Harry would have thought would have been used to this sort of thing, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group with James. The photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur at the front, but Rita Skeeter kept hurrying forward and dragging Harry into greater prominence. Then she insisted on separate shots of all the champions. At last, they were free to go. James went down to dinner. Hermione wasn't there - she supposed she was still in the hospital wing having her teeth fixed. She ate alone at the end of the table, then returned to Gryffindor Tower, thinking of all the extra work on Summoning Charms that he had to do. Up in the dormitory, he came across Ron.

"You've had an owl," said Lavender brusquely the moment she walked in. She was pointing at James's pillow. The Hedwig was waiting for her there.

"Oh - right," said James.

"And we've got to do our detentions tomorrow night, Snape's dungeon," said Parvati. They then walked straight out of the room, not looking at James. For a moment, James considered going after them - she wasn't sure whether she wanted to talk to them or hit them, both seemed quite appealing - but the lure of Sirius's answer was too strong. James strode over to the Hedwig, took the letter off her leg, and unrolled it.

Jaybird -

Remus and I are on our way, I can't believe this. You can understand I wont stand for this!

James stay out of trouble and keep your head down, if someone put your name in the cup and it was your father's luck that got you chosen you're not the real target you were just a bonus. Like your father said we will not stand for this.

Sirius and Remus

James felt a thrill of relief flood through her only for it to disappear when she ran down the spiral stair case and into the sight of Fred and Angelina snogging in a corner. George was not their and neither was Lee, but the way Fred's hands were grasping Angelina's shoulders was all she needed to see and she bursts into hurt tears and raced from the room and right into Rodger Davis who held the sobbing girl in shock not expecting her sudden appearance. He grasped her around the waist and lead her out of sight as other students came to see what was wrong with James, they kind of felt bad about the way they treated her now as the girl sobbed, her breaths coming in gasps and then they knew why.

"She's having a panic attack. Someone get Madam Promfrey!" Rodger cried out as he tried to have the hysterical girl breathed. He was shoved out of the way by Lee who pulled the girl into his lap and covered her eyes and just breathed deeply into her ears. Madam Promfrey arrived to see James sleeping in Lee's arms. Her body still shuddering from the panic attack that went through her. George arrived out of breath next and made his way over as Lee stood up with James in his arms. Draco and Blaise came skidding to a halt at the sight, their eyes filled with tears and Phineas who was in the crowd ran to Draco and buried his head into his side. Phineas had come a long way since the beginning of the year and it was all thanks to James.

"vill she ve okay?" Viktor asked quietly and Madam Promfrey patted James's head.

"The poor dear probably had a lot of stress piled up on her shoulders and cracked." She said with worry in her voice. "She'll be fine with some rest."

Rodger was shaking his head though, the words James had been sobbing had nothing to do with the tournament.

"_He cheated…He lied to me…Never Loved…Hurts…breathe… Freddy!" James had sobbed hysterically to Rodger as he grabbed her waist to steady her._ Rodger shook his head and his eyes went to the twin that was watching her with worry on his face. Was that Fred or George…He decided it was George so going up to him he whispered something to him that George felt his heart almost stop at the implication.

"She didn't have that attack from the stress, she had it from your brother. I'd ask him what he was doing with another girl that would cause this to happen to James." Rodger hissed at George before leaving the frozen boy who's hand stayed frozen on James tear stained face.

What had Fred done, George thought his eyes on the girl he considered his sister, the one he knew his twin loved.

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DON'T KILL ME! –Releases Blasted ended skrewts and runs for it-

-Pops up again-

Review please!

KrisxCross ou- EPP! –dodges cousin's rage-


	17. Chapter 17

Okay don't kill me people, or call me crazy MIRA! This has all been well thought out and you all know the pairing so enjoy this chapter, couldn't leave you guys in the dark for long.

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Sirius was in for a surprise when he walked into the school Remus at his heals, to find out his only daughter had suffered from a panic attack in a sobbing fit. Sirius who knew first hand that when Black's went into panic attacks they usually began to laugh that James had suffered something in a more sad way. George however was on a war path that no one had ever seen, the ginger's eyes were bright with anger that they had only seen reflected from Ron or Ginny before. The twins were usually very laid back and when you did anger them, it was never see however the whole of Gryffindor tower heard the fight the twins raged against each other that night.

"What the fuck did you do?" George snarled loudly as he entered the portrait hole, scaring and shocking half the tower when Fred with a blank look at his brother stood up.

"What do you mean what did I do?" Fred asked in confusion, Angelina had paled drastically from where she had been pawing at Fred. George noticed but he was too angry at his brother for allowing Angelina to paw at him.

"You do know you're not supposed to cheat on the people you love Fred." George roared out his wand coming to hand and Fred reacted accordingly, wand slipping into his own.

"What are you talking about? I never cheated on anyone you know that!" Fred argued but George was having no of it and sent a stinging hex at his brother.

"Explain Angelina pawing at you then! Explain you allowing her to paw at you when your girlfriend is in the infirmary!" George cried, not caring for a second that Fred seemed confused at the words coming from his mouth before George thouroughly kicked his brother's ass mentally and physically before Lee separated the twins. The tower was in pure silence, James was in the infirmary? Fred cheating on the pretty and kind hearted girl?

James however was oblivious to the fights going on as Promfrey kept James under to make sure when James woke up she would be calm. This time her trip to the infirmary was not ignored like it was in third year. Many of the James Black fan club visited, gave treats, and just talked to the sleeping girl. Sirius hadn't left her side since coming here besides the times Remus physically removed him. Harry, Hermione, and even though most didn't know, Ron had come to visit her. Telling her how sorry he was for not being there for her, he even told her what the first task was seeing as she was the only one to not know it.

James woke up on the day of the first task, she may have been put to sleep but James had heard every word spoken to her, she was terrified of the dragon but a plan had already formulated into her head as she got dressed into comfortable clothes, she wasn't going for style, she was going for what would help her more. Skinny jeans in black, skin tight long sleeved shirt that ended at her wrists and dark black leather combat boots were what the school saw as she entered the Great hall. Her dark black wavy hair was up in a ponytail, her side bangs clipped to stay out her eyes, she wore no makeup and yet she gained looks from a lot of the male population. She slid right to the Ravenclaw table and thanked Rodger Davis who was one of the ones staring at her and instead of sitting with her house she sat in between Draco and Blaise. Viktor came and sat in front of her so she didn't see the Gryffindor table at all, which he wanted. It had already come out that Fred had cheated on the poor girl and not being able to take the stress along with the betrayal had broken down.

George and Lee felt the sting of James sitting at the Slytherin table but the main supporters of James now was the Slytherins as Draco even though he was turning blood traitor still held influence and when James broke down Draco had let loose shocking the house and Snape as all badges were destroyed viciously and was given a warning that if anyone so much as looked at James wrong would inquire his wrath. Theodore Nott however had changed for the better. James's life finally coming to slap him in the face when he had went to see the girl was what had done it.

_"Abuse was extensive it seems, I'm keeping her under and having to heal old injuries from the Dursley's Sirius. She's lucky to have still been able to stand, the pain she must have felt just twitching had to have been unbearable." Promfrey said to Sirius and Theodore ran his mind racing, Black abused? He couldn't comprehend what he had heard and sought out the only one who would know anything, Harry Potter. This he thought helplessly as he cornered the boy in the restroom would mean that the "Great and Noble Boy-who-wouldn't-die" had been abused as well. His head spun at the prospect but he had to know, he just had too. His mother's scared face flashed before his eyes, overlaying the picture of a running James that had almost ran into him on his way to the library. The difference in the picture was the eyes. Of course the two looked nothing alike, but the look on their faces were the same. The only thing that was different was the betrayed look his mother had and the betrayed/ knowing look Black had had in her navy eyes._

"_Potter, is it true? Were you and Black abused by your relatives?" Theodore asked bluntly after putting up silencing charms and locking the door with privacy wards. Potter's face changed from shock to anger and finally ending in a wary look._

"_You obviously know already know so why ask?" Potter asked with a sly look on his face, so Potter had meant to be a Slytherin as well it seemed._

"_I don't want to believe the girl that I have harassed, bullied, and threatened had the same look my mother had before her death." Theodore said with an emotionless voice before leaving. His mind wandered to the way he had treated Black and how she had helped him during the Moody incident. He felt sick and just like his father, he had never wanted to but he had and he was determined to change. I'll apologize to Black the next time I see her._

"Oi James, glad to have you walking around again." Theodore said nonchalantly but everyone could hear the "I'm sorry" that was laced in with the words, well James did hear it no one else did so he was use to the shocked looks aimed at him, and the deadly one Draco was sending him.

"It's good to be back Theo." James said and Theodore glared for the nickname but smiled to himself, he was forgiven and that was all that mattered.

It was a state of nervousness so advanced that she wondered whether she mightn't just lose her head when they tried to lead her out to her dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight. Time was behaving in a more peculiar fashion than ever, rushing past in great dollops, so that one moment she seemed to be sitting down in her first lesson, History of Magic, and the next, walking into lunch… and then (where had the morning gone? the last of the dragon-free hours?), Professor Flitwick was hurrying over to her in the Great Hall. Lots of people were watching.

"Black, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now… You have to get ready for your first task."

"Kay," said James, standing up, her spoon falling into her bowl with a clatter and splash.

"Good luck, James," Draco whispered. "You got this!"

"You can do it James!" Blaise whooped.

"Go for it Black." Theodore said with a smirk.

"Vets go Hames." Viktor told her offering his arm to her, her eyes went to the Gryffindor table for the first time that day and caught George and Lee's eyes, they shared with her a smile. Her heart however clenched at the sight of Fred being lovey dovey with Angelina. They met up with Harry at the door Fleur running to catch up with them.

They left the Great Hall with Professor Flitwick. He didn't seem himself either; in fact, he looked nearly as anxious as Blaise had. As he walked them down the stone steps and out into the cold November afternoon, he put his hand on James's and Harry's arms.

"Now, don't panic," he said, "just keep a cool head… We've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand… The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you… Are you all right?"

"Yes," James heard Harry say. "Yes, I'm fine."

"My dad's here?" James asked her eyes meeting the professor's own who nodded with a grim look.

He was leading them toward the place where the dragons were, around the edge of the forest, but when they approached the clump of trees behind which the enclosure would be clearly visible, James saw that a tent had been erected, its entrance facing them, screening the dragons from view.

"You're to go in here everyone," said Professor Flitwick, in a rather shaky sort of squeak of a voice, "and wait for your turn, everyone. Mr. Bagman is in there… he'll be telling yall the - the procedure… Good luck."

"Thanks," murmured the teens in flat, distant voices. He left them at the entrance of the tent. James went inside first, she went and promptly sat on a desk she saw, her feet dangling and kicking like a child's seemed to calm her down somewhat.

Fleur Delacour went to sit in a corner on a how wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which James supposed was his way of showing nerves. Harry was pacing up and down. James and Harry shared a small nervous smile that seemed shaky at best forced at worst.

"Everyone! Good-o!" said Bagman happily, looking around at him. "relax and make yourselves at home!"

Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes again.

"Well, now we're all here - time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag" - he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them - "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different - er - varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too… ah, yes… your task is to collect the golden egg!"

James glanced around. Harry had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words, and then started pacing around the tent again; he looked slightly green. Fleur Delacour and Krum hadn't reacted at all. Perhaps they thought they might be sick if they opened their mouths; that was certainly how James felt. But they, at least, had volunteered for this…

And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking… James felt as separate from the crowd as though they were a different species. And then – it seemed like about a second later to James- Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack.

"Ladies first," he said, offering it to James as if it was gift that wouldn't lead her to a near death or fatal experience.

James let out a shuttering breath and put her hand into the bag, she paled dramatically at the dragon she pulled out. Sitting in her hand was a Norwegian Ridgeback, she had seen only one in her life and she was not looking forward to seeing Norbert or Norberta as Charlie told her ever again or her species for that matter. The Number three was tied gingerly around it's neck.

Bagman then offered the purple sack to Fleur who looked to be minutes from going to be sick to crying.

She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon - a Welsh Green. It had the number two around its neck And Jaes knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that she had been right: Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.

The same held true for Viktor. He pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number one around its neck. He didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.

Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, and the number four. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.

"Well, there you are!" said Bagman. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Krum, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now… Harry…James… could I have a quick word? Outside?"

"Er… yes," said Harry blankly, and he got up and went out of the tent with Bagman, who walked him a short distance away, into the trees, and then turned to him with a fatherly expression on his face. James followed not having verbally responded.

"Feeling all right, You two? Anything I can get you?"

"What?" said Harry. "I - no, nothing."

James eyes had narrowed but she said nothing her mind whirling on what she was going to do.

"Got a plan?" said Bagman, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Because I don't mind sharing a few pointers, if you'd like them, you know. I mean,"

Bagman continued, lowering his voice still further, "you're the underdog here, you two… Anything I can do to help…"

"No," said Harry so quickly he knew he had sounded rude, "no - I - I know what I'm going to do, thanks."

"I got my plan." James said easily, her nerves calming she did have a plan and she worked best under pressure if need be.

"Nobody would know, you two," said Bagman, winking at them.

"No, I'm fine," said Harry, wondering why he kept telling people this, and wondering whether he had ever been less fine. "I've got a plan worked out, I -"

A whistle had blown somewhere and James felt relief enter her, Bagman creeped her out.

"Good lord, I've got to run!" said Bagman in alarm, and he hurried off.

James walked back to the tent and saw Viktor emerging from it, greener than ever. James gave his arm a squeeze and a small smile that he willing gave back if a bit forced.

James went back inside to Fleur and Harry. Seconds later, they heard the roar of the crowd, which meant Viktor had entered the enclosure and was now face-to face with the living counterpart of his model.

It was worse than James could ever have imagined, sitting there and listening. The crowd screamed… yelled… gasped like a single many-headed entity, as Krum did whatever he was doing to get past the Chinese Fire ball. Harry was still staring at the ground. Fleur had now taken to retracing Harry's steps, around and around the tent. And Bagman's commentary made everything much, much worse… Horrible pictures formed in James's mind as he heard: "Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow"… "He's taking risks, this one!"… "Clever move - pity it didn't work!"

And then, after about fifteen minutes, James heard the deafening roar that could mean only one thing: Viktor had gotten past his dragon and captured the golden egg.

"Very good indeed!" Bagman was shouting. "And now the marks from the judges!"

But he didn't shout out the marks; James supposed the judges were holding them up and showing them to the crowd.

"One down, three to go!" Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Fleur was trembling from head to foot; James felt more warmly toward her than she had done so far as she heft the tent with her head held high and her hand clutching her wand. She and Harry were left alone, at opposite sides of the tent, avoiding each other's gaze.

The same process started again…"Oh I'm not sure that was wise!" they could hear Bagman shouting gleefully. "Oh… nearly! Careful now… good lord, I thought she'd had it then!"

Ten minutes later, James heard the crowd erupt into applause once more… Fleur must have been successful too. A pause, while Fleur's marks were being shown… more clapping… then, for the third time, the whistle.

"And here comes Miss Black!" cried Bagman, and James shakily made her way out of the tent and towards the arena her back straight and head held at a jaunty angle. And now she was walking past the trees, through a gap in the enclosure fence.

She saw everything in front of her as though it was a very highly colored dream.

There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at her from stands that had been magicked there since he'd last stood on this spot. And there was the Ridgeback, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon her, a monstrous, scaly, brown lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, heaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, James didn't know or care. It was time to do what she had to do… to focus her mind, entirely and absolutely, upon the thing that was her only chance.

She raised her head and spoke calmly much to the crowds shock it was a roar that left her pouty pink lips.

"One of your eggs is a fake, ma'am." James said with honest tone, her hands not going for a wand of being threating. To the crowd the dragon stood up ready to attack as it roared back.

"How would you know hatchling?" The dragon asked her eyes flitting over her black eggs, until her eyes landed on the brightly colored gold one, her eyes narrowed.

"I see what you mean, come and take it then hatchling." The dragon roared again sparks of anger leaving her mouth. The whole crowd gasped expecting the dragon to pounce but were shocked as James walked up and into the nest taking the golden egg not daring to touch the black eggs. She however tripped and not thinking of the claws the dragon caught her, the long claws digging into her skin

"Thank you ma'am." James roared back in pain and then applause erupted as Sirius jumped up and down, he was so glad his daughter was so talented to have such a gift. He thanked magic gratefully in his mind and watched as she was given full tens and one 6 from Karkaroff.

"That was excellent, Black!" cried Professor Flitwick as she walked out of the arena- which from him was extravagant praise. She noticed that his hand shook as he pointed at her side. "You'll need to see Madam Pomfrey. She had to mop up Krum already."

"Yeh did it, James!" said Hagrid hoarsely. "Yeh did it! An' agains' the Ridgeback an' all, an' yeh know Charlie said that was one the wors' - "

"Thanks, Hagrid," said James loudly, so that Hagrid wouldn't blunder on and reveal that he had shown Harry or anyone the dragons before hand.

Professor Moody looked very pleased too; his magical eye was dancing in its socket.

"Didn't know you had such a talent Black," he growled.

"Right then, Black, the first aid tent, please…" said Professor McGonagall.

James walked out of the enclosure, still panting, and saw Madam Pomfrey standing at the mouth of a second tent, looking worried.

"Dragons!" she said, in a disgusted tone, pulling James inside. The tent was divided into cubicles; he could make out Viktor's shadow through the canvas, but Viktor didn't seem to be badly injured; he was sitting up, at least. Madam Pomfrey examined James's side, talking furiously all the while. "Last year dementors, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next? You're very lucky… this is quite shallow… it'll need cleaning before I heal it up, though…and an antidote, Ridgeback claws like their teeth are posiones."

She cleaned the cut with a dab of some purple liquid that smoked and stung, but then poked her shoulder with her wand, and she felt it heal instantly. "Now, just sit quietly for a minute - sit! And then you can go and see Harry's score."

She bustled out of the tent and he heard her go next door and say, "How does it feel now, Krum?"

James didn't want to sit still: She was too full of adrenaline. She got to her feet, wanting to see what was going on outside, but before she'd reached the mouth of the tent, two people had come darting inside - Hermione, followed closely by Ron.

"James, you were brilliant!" Hermione said squeakily. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear.

"You were amazing! You really were!" Blaise said entering the tent next, his smile wide as he pulled her into a hug.

But James was looking at Ron, who was very white and staring at James as though she were a ghost.

"James," he said, very seriously, "whoever put your name in that goblet - I – I reckon they're trying to do you in!"

It was as though the last few weeks had never happened - as though James were meeting Ron for the first time, right after she'd been made champion.

"Caught on, have you?" said James coldly. "Took you long enough."

Hermione stood nervously between them, looking from one to the other. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly. James knew Ron was about to apologize and suddenly she found she didn't need to hear it.

"It's okay," she said, before Ron could get the words out. "Forget it. You told me the dragons bit too."

"No," said Ron, "I shouldn't've -"

"Forget it, "James said exasperatedly smacking his shoulder. A whistle blew and caused everyone to jump, it was Harry's turn.

Ron grinned nervously at her, and James grinned back

Hermione burst into tears.

"There's nothing to cry about!" James told her, bewildered.

"You two are so stupid!" she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. Then, before either of them could stop her, she had given both of them a hug and dashed away, now positively howling.

"Barking mad," said Ron, shaking his head. "James, I should go watch Harry's turn. See you."

And see she did as Harry came in with shallow scratches on his arm. The two boys had a heart to heart chat, not really it had been as easy as two nods and grins for them to be best friends again.

Picking up the golden egg and his Firebolt, feeling more elated than he would have believed possible an hour ago, Harry ducked out of the tent, Ron by his right and James to his left.

"You were the best, James you know, no competition. Krum did this weird thing where he Transfigured a rock on the ground… turned it into a dog… he was trying to make the dragon go for the dog instead of him. Well, it was a pretty cool bit of Transfiguration, and it sort of worked, because he did get the egg, but he got burned as well - the dragon changed its mind halfway through and decided it would rather have him than the Labrador; he only just got away. And that Fleur girl tried this sort of charm, I think she was trying to put it into a trance - well, that kind of worked too, it went all sleepy, but then it snored, and this great jet of flame shot out, and her skirt caught fire - she put it out with a bit of water out of her wand. And Harry - you won't believe this, but he just used his firebolt real easily but they all saw that Harry got hurt, they might take points off. James they don't know if you got hurt or not so you didn't get any points taken off. Charlie is in love with you now too, a girl who can speak dragon, his prayers have been answered."

Ron drew breath as they reached the edge of the enclosure. Now that the Horntail had been taken away, Harry could see where the five judges were sitting - right at the other end, in raised seats draped in gold.

"It's marks out of ten from each one," Ron said, and Harry squinting up the field, saw the first judge - Madame Maxime - raise her wand in the air. What hooked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure eight.

"Not bad!" said Ron as the crowd applauded. "I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder…"

Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number nine into the air.

"Looking good!" Ron yelled, thumping Harry on the back.

Next, Dumbledore. He too put up a nine. The crowd was cheering harder than ever.

Ludo Bagman - ten.

"Ten?" said Harry in disbelief. "But… I got hurt… What's he playing at?"

"Harry, don't complain!" Ron yelled excitedly.

"I got straight tens and a six." James told Harry cheekily who only swatted at her.

And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand too - four.

"What?" Ron bellowed furiously. "Four? You lousy, biased scumbag, you gave Krum ten!"

"He gave me a six too." James said with slight anger and a glared at Karkaroff who was blank faced.

But Harry didn't care, he wouldn't have cared if Karkaroff had given him zero; Ron's indignation on his behalf was worth about a hundred points to him. He didn't tell Ron this, of course, but his heart felt lighter than air as he turned to leave the enclosure.

And it wasn't just Ron… those weren't only Gryffindors cheering in the crowd. When it had come to it, when they had seen what they were facing, most of the school had been on Harry's side as well as James's… She didn't care about Fred cheating on her at the moment it was shoved out of her mind.

"You're in first place, James! Harry and Krum tied for second!" said Charlie Weasley, hurrying to meet them as they set off back toward the school, pulling James into a spinning hug. "Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened - but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah - and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes… Bagman wants a word, back in the champions' tent."

Ron said he would wait, so they reentered the tent, which somehow looked quite different now: friendly and welcoming. She thought back to how she'd felt while talking to the ridgeback, and compared it to the long wait before she'd walked out to face it… There was no comparison; the wait had been immeasurably worse. Fleur and Krum came in together. One side of Krum's face was covered in a thick orange paste, which was presumably mending his burn. He grinned at James when he saw her.

"Very nice Hames."

"And you," said James, grinning back.

"Well done, all of you!" said Ludo Bagman, bouncing into the tent and looking as pleased as though he personally had just got past a dragon. "Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth - but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open… see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg - because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!"

They left the tent, rejoined Ron, and they started to walk back around the edge of the forest, talking hard; James wanted to hear what the other champions had done in more detail. Then, as they rounded the clump of trees behind which Harry had first heard the dragons roar, a witch leapt out from behind them.

It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them.

"Congratulations, James!" she said, beaming at her. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel now, about the fairness of the scoring?"

"Yeah, you can have a word make that two," said James savagely. "Fuck off."

And they set off back to the castle with Ron.

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I dare someone to guess what's up with Fred and Angelina. Come on I want to hear your ideas on the matter. Just remember you guys that are swearing in your minds at Fred now might be eating your words in the future…

KrisxCross out~


	18. Chapter 18

Okay people give me some credit, Fred is not under a love potion! It is something different that you guys will never guess so =P Enjoy the chapter!

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James stared at the group of boys that had cornered her belting out words she was a bit scared to understand. She had just left Draco and Blaise and had been on her way to the library when boys of all ages cornered her and began yelling at her. James eyes went wide and her eyes searched for an escape, she only saw one boy she knew that was a seventh year, he was being cornered by Fleur and being determined James called out to him.

"Rodger!" James called pushing through the group of boys and past Fleur who had frozen a bit at James's call. She thought it was perfect timing as Fred and Angelina who would be going to the ball together came walking down the hall. Dean turned to look over at her and he smiled at her, his hazel green eyes lighting up his face. James stepped forward and grinned a coy grin that made amusement come to his eyes.

"Do you need something James?" He asked pleasantly his chocolate colored hair falling into his eyes somewhat, Rodger was hot, and James knew he knew it.

"A little favor, if you don't mind?" She asked with a smirk coming to her face, a coy grin twisted on to Rodger's lips.

"What kind of favor?"

"What are you doing during the twenty fifth?" James asked and Rodger seemed to think real hard about it.

"I think I have a dance I'm going to."

"Do you have someone you're going with?" James hinted a bit, she could feel jealous eyes bypassing her and glaring at Rodger as the group she ran from came near them.

"Not that I'm aware of." Rodger replied with smirk now fully on his lips.

"Would you do me the honor of coming with me?" James asked and Rodger seemed to think hard about it eyeing her.

"Sure why not? Meet you at the Fat lady then?" Rodger asked and James smiling widely nodded, the two then went separate ways afterwards. Rodger ignored the glares from some of the other males and James was ignoring Fleur who was practically spitting with rage.

Through it all James didn't see Angelina use her wand on a shocked and pissed off Fred. However George did, even though he was mad at Fred, the word's he heard leaving Angelina's mouth had shocked him. He ran off to find the Black girl and tell her what he heard. He found her jumping up and down squealing with Hermione.

"So we both got dates then?" James asked and George blinked at that, who was Hermione going with?

"Yes, oh this is going to be great James. Let's go dress browsing." Hermione told James and pulled her towards the girls dormitory. James however seen George and tilted her head at him. George bit his lip, should he tell her? Later he decided, let her have fun at the ball. He just grinned at her and motioned her off, she grinned back at him and George was sort of glad she didn't hate him like she did Fred.

"So how are you going to do your hair?" Hermione asked James and Parvati and Lavender glanced over at the two looking into a dress catalogue.

"I was thinking mainly straight with curls on the ends what do you think?" James asked and Hermione nodded eagerly.

"Yeah, you'll pretty anyway James." Hermione said with a small frown on her face.

"You're pretty too Hermione." James told her with a stern look.

"Not as pretty as you." Hermione told her with a straight face.

"Get a room." Lavender cackled out and looked to Parvati who was frowning at her.

"Already got one, maybe you should decide where your room is really at, Terry Boot don't like cheaters Lavender." James snapped right back at her. James had never liked Lavender at all and Parvati was only liked because James liked her sister Padma. Lavender screeched before leaving the room in fit like a giant rhino and Parvati running after her like a puppy.

"Idiots, so I was thinking straight with a few curls mixed in with yours." James told Hermione who blinked at her and then smiled.

"That sound's cute. So what dress are you getting?" Hermione asked and James shrugged.

"I saw five that I really liked but I don't know." James said with a frown eyeing one page.

"Which ones are you looking at?" Hermione asked looking at the page. James pointed to a pretty plain navy strapless dress that was going to be one of those swirly fairy like dresses every time you turned would flow out and up cutely. She pointed at another Black one with a corset top that had blue and silver accents at the top. It was sexy and would fit James perfectly if she were to wear it to the ball. The other three were basically that same dress in different designs, a light blue, one was strapless, another was off the shoulders, and the last had only one sleeve and then a thin strap for the other side.

"I like the corset one, personally for you it'd look Sexy Sly." Hermione said and James giggled before pointing out a lilac colored dress. It was one that would flow with her every movement, a sash that would go around her shoulder's as well. It would be perfect for her, looking at the price Hermione bit her lip.

"It's perfect but I can't afford that." Hermione told her and James new why Hermione couldn't afford the dress as it was made from Acromantula silk. James however smirked at her.

"Christmas present from me to you, Fierce." James told her and Hermione began to shake her head so James took her hands into her own.

"I want this to be perfect for you Hermione. Just absolutely wonderful, okay?" James asked her who nodded a bit reluctantly. Sending in the money and the order form for the two dresses the two girls went down stairs to see Ron on the couch being patted by Ginny while Harry laughed at him.

"What's going on?" James asked and Hermione joined her on the right side as they got closer.

"Oh, Ron asked Fleur to the ball." Harry snorted and James's lips twitched while Hermione hid a smile. Ron just shook a bit more.

"It was bloody awful, she told me no like I was dung under her nose." Ron said his brown eyes hurt as he looked down.

"She's probably still pissed I beat her to Rodger." James said with a smirk and Hermione giggled.

"Rodger Davis? That six year?" Ginny asked with wide eyes.

"One and the same." James told her with a grin.

"Hey…wait Hermione you're a girl…why don't you go with me or Harry, since he doesn't got a date either." Ron said a hopeful look.

"I'm already going with someone." Hermione said with a slight glare at Ron and before he could make an ass of himself James intervened.

"Harry, why don't you ask Luna Lovegood? She's a sweet girl, pretty, and she knows how to dance." James asked Harry who blinked at her as did Ron.

"Looney?" Ron blurted out and he was glared at by James.

"Luna's just a bit eccentric, you'll like her Harry promise." James told him and Harry gave her a look before nodding at her.

"Sure, alright, you just have to help me find her." Harry told her with a small grin. James grinned right back and taking Harry she ran with him, throwing over her shoulder.

"Ron, why don't you ask Parvati?" James asked with a smile and Ron got up to do just that.

"So this Luna girl, what is she like?" Harry asked and James grinned.

"I guess she's like me when I was little, you know how I was." James told him and Harry grinned. He thought it was cute that James believed in fairies and had even indulged her when she told him about them.

"Cute." Harry grinned at her and James nodded as they walked towards the Ravenclaw dorms James saw Rodger outside it talking with his friends.

"Oi, Rodger you mind getting Luna for me?" James called out. Rodger looked over at her and then shrugged entering the veil covered entrance after answering a riddle. Luna and Rodger came out of the portrait whole and Harry was intrigued the moment he saw the girl's radish earrings. They were really cute and just made him start to like her more. James left them alone as Harry walked towards the blonde haired beauty before him.

"Would you mind going to the ball with me Luna?" Harry asked and the Ravenclaws around went dead silent. Harry Potter asking Looney Lovegood?

"Of course I would like to go to the Ball with you Harry Potter." Luna said in her cute dreamy like voice. Harry knew he had to be careful the girl was too cute for her own good.

"Thank you Luna, pick you up here at seven?" Harry asked and Luna nodded with a grin. Harry watched Luna skip off and grinned before James slid beside him.

"What did I say?" James giggled as the two cousins left the Ravenclaw entrance.

"You're right, I like her." Harry said with a shrug and a silly grin coming to his face.

"Obviously." James teased him and the two walked on laughing.

"Obviously." Harry agreed and they shared a grin with each other before James shoved Harry and then ran from him giggling.

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Review and keep guessing peoples lol.

KrisxCross out~


	19. Chapter 19

People put on your helmets and seat belts all hells about to break fucking loose people!

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Despite the very heavy load of homework that the fourth years had been given for the holidays James was in no mood to work when term ended, and spent the week leading up to Christmas enjoying herself as fully as possible along with everyone else.

Gryffindor Tower was hardly less crowded now than during term-time; it seemed to have shrunk slightly too, as its inhabitants were being so much rowdier than usual. The twins were still not on speaking terms even though they had been handing out canary creams, the same as James herself. People burst into bright yellow feathers and large beaks constantly around the castle. It was a great success the problem was that people began doubting candy being given to anyone, much to their amusement not that the students knew that. James and George were not speaking to Fred who would look completely confused about the sudden anger and sadness the two would have when around him.

Snow was falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid's cabin, while the Durmstrang ship's portholes were glazed with ice, the rigging white with frost. The house-elves down in the kitchen were outdoing themselves with a series of rich, warming stews and savory puddings, and only Fleur Delacour seemed to be able to find anything to complain about.

"It is too 'eavy, all zis 'Ogwarts food," they heard her saying grumpily as they left the Great Hall behind her one evening James and Hermione who were getting sick of her complaining.

"Really? But most French dishes are very heavy…" James began as she passed Fleur.

"Covered in sauces that are thick and creamy…" Hermione added.

"But we both know what kind of thick and creamy that you like sliding down your throat." The two said together leaving the half veela spluttering out denials.

"Hermione - who are you going to the ball with?" said Ron.

He kept springing this question on her, hoping to startle her into a response by asking it when she least expected it. However, Hermione merely frowned and said, "I'm not telling you, you'll just make fun of me."

"You're joking, Weasley!" said Pansy, behind them. "You're not telling me someone's asked that to the ball? Not the long-molared Mudblood?"

James, Harry, and Ron both whipped around, but Hermione said loudly, waving to somebody over Parkinson's shoulder, "Hello, Professor Moody!"

Parkinson went pale and jumped backward, looking wildly around for Moody, but he was still up at the staff table, finishing his stew.

"Twitchy little ferret, aren't you, Pansy? Just like your cousin Nott." said Hermione scathingly, and she, James, Harry, and Ron went up the marble staircase laughing heartily.

"Hermione," said Ron, looking sideways at her, suddenly frowning, "your teeth…"

"What about them?" she said.

"Well, they're different… I've just noticed…"

"Of course they are - did you expect me to keep those fangs Nott gave me?"

"No, I mean, they're different to how they were before he put that hex on you… They're all… straight and - and normal-sized."

Hermione suddenly smiled very mischievously, and James noticed it too: It was a very different smile from the one she remembered.

"Well… when I went up to Madam Pomfrey to get them shrunk, she held up a mirror and told me to stop her when they were back to how they normally were," she said. "And I just… let her carry on a bit." She smiled even more widely.

"Mum and Dad won't be too pleased. I've been trying to persuade them to let me shrink them for ages, but they wanted me to carry on with my braces. You know, they're dentists, they just don't think teeth and magic should mix!" Hermione said a bit scandalized

"Oh well." James said with a shrug.

"You guys still should open those eggs you know, to find out what they are about." Hermione suggested as they walked into the common room.

"Oh they've got ages Hermione." Ron said before looking at James, they have never played chess together and he wanted to see if she was any good.

"So want to play chess James?" Ron asked and James blinked looking up from the golden egg she shrunk in her pocket.

"Yeah, okay," said James. Then, spotting the look on Hermione's face, she said, "Come on, how'm I supposed to concentrate with all this noise going on? I won't even be able to hear the egg over this lot."

"Oh I suppose not," she sighed, and she sat down to watch their chess match, which culminated in an exciting and very close checkmate of Ron's, involving a couple of recklessly brave pawns and a very violent bishop.

James awoke very suddenly on Christmas Day. Wondering what had caused her abrupt return to consciousness, she opened her eyes, and saw something with very large, round, green eyes staring back at her in the darkness, so close they were almost nose to nose.

"Dobby!" James screeched, scrambling away from the elf so fast she fell out of bed. "Don't do that!"

"Dobby is sorry, Miss!" squeaked Dobby anxiously, jumping backward with his long fingers over his mouth. "Dobby is only wanting to wish James Black 'Happy Christmas' and bring her a present, Miss! James Black did say Dobby could come and see her and Mr. Potter sir sometimes, Miss!"

"It's okay," said James, still breathing rather faster than usual, while her heart rate returned to normal. "Just - just prod me or something in future, all right, don't bend over me like that…"

James pulled back the curtains around her four-poster bed, sheepishly. Her screech had awoken Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati. All of them were peering through the gaps in their own hangings, heavy-eyed and tousle-haired.

"Someone attacking you, James?" Parvati asked sleepily.

"No, it's just Dobby," James muttered. "Go back to sleep."

"Nah… presents!" said Parvati, spotting the large pile at the foot of her bed. Hermione and Lavender decided that now they were awake they might as well get down to some present-opening too. James turned back to Dobby, who was now standing nervously next to James's bed, still looking worried that he had upset James. There was a Christmas bauble tied to the loop on top of his tea cozy.

"Can Dobby give James Black her present?" he squeaked tentatively.

"'Course you can," said James. "I've got something for you too."

James had indeed bought a present for Dobby. A whole outfit in fact, a cozy green sweater, black pants, and warm socks that she had fit on Kreacher, he had almost freaked out however James had told him that she wasn't giving him clothes, she was using him to measure the clothes, it mollified him and technically didn't free him. Handing the package over, Dobby ripped through the package quickly before breaking into sobs and tackling James into a hug.

"Miss Black is too kind!" he said, disappearing and then reappearing in the clothes. "I has seven now, miss… But miss…" he said, his eyes widening, having pulled both socks on and fiddling with them, "they has made a mistake in the shop, James Black, they is giving you two the same!"

"Ah, no, James, how come you didn't spot that?" asked Hermione, grinning over from her own bed, which was now strewn with wrapping paper. "Tell you what, Dobby - here you go - take these two, and you can mix them up properly. And here's another sweater."

She threw Dobby a pair of violet socks she had just unwrapped, and the handknitted sweater Mrs. Granger had sent, Dobby looked quite overwhelmed.

"Miss is very kind!" he squeaked, his eyes brimming with tears again, bowing deeply to Hermione. "Dobby knew miss must be a great wizard, for she is James Black's greatest friend, but Dobby did not know that she was also as generous of spirit, as noble, as selfless -"

"They're only socks," said Hermione, who had gone slightly pink around the ears, though she looked rather pleased all the same. "Wow, James -" She had just opened James's present, a magic styling iron, that could straighten, curl, and wave.

Dobby now handed James a small package, which turned out to be – socks or stockings.

"Dobby is making them himself, miss!" the elf said happily. "He is buying the wool out of his wages, miss!"

The left stocking was bright green with witch hats on them; the right sock was red with a pattern of cauldrons.

"They're… they're really… well, thanks, Dobby," said James, and she pulled them on, causing Dobby's eyes to leak with happiness again.

"Dobby must go now, Miss, we is already making Christmas dinner in the kitchens!" said Dobby, and he hurried out of the dormitory, waving good-bye to Hermione and the others as he passed.

James's other presents were much more satisfactory than Dobby's odd socks –although they were more special- James supposed she was being sentimental.

Hermione had gotten James a jinx book and denied it when she thanked her causing James to giggle.

Ron, a cute teddy bear, red with a black heart on the chest; Sirius, a handy penknife with attachments to unlock any lock and undo any knot; and Hagrid, a vast box of sweets including all James's favorites: Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and Fizzing Whizbees. There was also, of course, Mrs. Weasley's usual package, including a new sweater (light blue, with a picture of a tiara on it, and a large quantity of homemade mince pies.)

"Why does she always make you the good sweater?" Hermione huffed.

"Because she loves me more," James smirked at her.

"That's what I thought," Hermione said easily, her own lumpy brown sweater over her head.

Harry and Ron met up with the girls in the common room, and they went down to breakfast together. They spent most of the morning in Gryffindor Tower, where everyone was enjoying their presents, then returned to the Great Hall for a magnificent lunch, which included at least a hundred turkeys and Christmas puddings, and large piles of Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers.

They went out onto the grounds in the afternoon; the snow was untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students on their way up to the castle. James, Hermione, Harry, and the Weasleys' snowball fight were beyond what other's could remember. James and George were a deadly tag team, Fred their main target barely made it through the game, being bruised wasn't very fun. The girls however cut the game at five.

"What, you need three hours?" said Ron, looking at them incredulously and paying for his lapse in concentration when a large snowball, thrown by George, hit him hard on the side of the head.

"Who're you going with?" he yelled after Hermione, but she just waved and disappeared up the stone steps into the castle with James cackling next to her.

There was no Christmas tea today, as the ball included a feast, so at seven o'clock, when it had become hard to aim properly, the others abandoned their snowball fight and trooped back to the common room. The Fat Lady was sitting in her frame with her friend Violet from downstairs, both of them extremely tipsy, empty boxes of chocolate liqueurs littering the bottom other picture.

"Fairy fights, that's the one!" she giggled when they gave the password, and she swung forward to let them inside.

James already had Hermione in a chair for nearly an hour, the bushy mess was almost done, her hair was straight with a few ringlets spread around her head. Done with her hair James worked on Hermione's make up. She put dark black eyeliner, a deep purple on the eye lid leading to lavender then to white for eye shadow, and finally a light lip gloss over pink lip stain. James then helped the girl into the dress so nothing got ruined and soon Hermione was staring dumbstruck at her reflection. She was a vision, her hair was neat, controllable, and her makeup was just right, bringing out her eyes. She turned to thank James only to find the girl fixing her own hair.

Her eyes were taking in every detail, Hermione noticed not letting even one strand stay wavy the curls came last having straightened her hair perfectly, she took each lock of hair and curled the ends, bobby pinning then and spraying a light amount of hair spray on them. She soon began adding dark black eyeliner, navy blue eye shadow, light blue over it, leading to sliver. Her eyes already heavy lidded she didn't add mascara. Her lips were soon stained pink and then decorated with clear lip gloss. Putting her dress on she smirked seeing how it fit her every curve. Turning around she saw Hermione looking at her.

"You're so beautiful." Hermione gasped her eyes wide.

"You're not too bad yourself Mione." James told her before smirking.

"Now I must go, I have an hour to turn my cousin and Ron in to hotties." James told her, causing the brunette to giggle. James left the room passing by a shocked Lavender who was still gazing after her. James headed down to the common room where everyone was helping everyone, she thought it hilarious that the fourth year boys had claimed a corner and were waiting for her. Walking over many people froze to stare at the Black Heiress, she was a nice sight.

"Need my help do you?" James asked and Harry the only one able to still talk nodded eagerly. Harry sat down and James got to work, her magic weaving into Harry's they together began to fix Harry's hair it would forever be messy but it didn't have to not be styled. She styled it in to a windswept look having some of the bangs falling into his green eyes. Soon she eyed the suit he was wearing and then transfigured his tie to a light green and his carnation into his pocket into a blue rose. He looked quite dashing.

"You have ten minutes to get to the Ravenclaw entrance." James told him and Harry bolted for it. James was now eyeing Ron, her eyes landing on his hair. Sighing lightly she transfigured it to a darker maroon color, she made it messy, it changed Ron's entire look, he seemed to be a bad boy with a mischievous side now, but those dress robes he was wearing… She transfigured them into a simple tuxedo, a dark red carnation and tie finishing him off. She shoved him off to a smiling Parvati. She fixed Seamus in a similar way, although he was still his blonde self, a blue tie and a purple carnation on his pocket.

"You look dashing already Dean." James told him, and Dean smiled at her.

"Thanks, I really tried to look good." muttered Dean.

"And you succeeded." James told him before leaving the portrait hole and greeting Rodger who wrapped an arm around her waist.

"So we are opening the ball?" Rodger asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yep." James said popping the "p" causing Rodger to smile at the girl. They were joined soon by Viktor and Hermione who everyone was gazing at in shock, disbelief, curiosity, or jealousy.

"I'm kind of nervous." Hermione said to James and before she could reply someone beat her to it.

"You shouldn't be, I'm the one that's going to look stupid, can't dance to save my life." Harry spoke up, twirling Luna into sight. She was wearing a light blue dress, it was a corset dress however the bottom was one of those cute fairy feeling dresses that spin out when you do. Her hair was down straight, her bangs framing her dark blue eyes.

"You probably will, Luna you look beautiful." James told the two.

"Thank you. You look very nice today too, did the fairies help you?" Luna asked and James nodded to the amusement of everyone around.

"Yes, they gave me advice." James told her seriously, the two then got into a discussion that was soon rudely interrupted by Fleur who came stalking up, Terry Boot by her side. James felt slightly bad for Lavender but at the same time she did deserve it. She wore a dress of grey and silver satin, it was a bit too much thought James.

A group of Slytherins came up the steps from their dungeon common room. Draco was in front; he was wearing a tuxedo like a lot of the boys, a light blue tie and a silver pendant where a flower would be. Blaise, wore traditional dress robes of navy, it fit him well and gave off the impression of being in charge. Theodor wore black dress robes with gold trimming, he as well looked quite dashing. Astoria Greengrass had her strawberry blonde hair pinned up in curls in a light blue dress that matched Draco's tie, they were holding hands. Daphne had her hair down perfectly straight wearing a dark navy dress that brought out her eyes and matched Blaise who was holding on to his wrist, him her elbow. Tracy Davis had her short hair in a pixie fashion her dress was cut nicely and made her seem tinier than she was already, she had Theodor's arm around her shoulders. Pansy Parkinson in very frilly robes of pale pink was standing in between Crabbe and Goyle. Crabbe and Goyle were both wearing green; they resembled moss-colored boulders.

"Bloody Hell James, who are you trying to kill?" Blaise asked as he eyed James, his sister in everything but blood.

"Whoever I want to." James sniffed before the two hugged.

"You look bloody amazing as well Hermione." Blaise said kissing her hand. Hermione giggled and Daphne grabbed Blaise.

"You both look very pretty, but he's mine." Daphne told them.

"You are bloody gorgeous Greengrass, Blaise has eyes only for you." James told her and Daphne smiled lightly.

"Thank you Black." Daphne said before Blaise waved and lead her into the hall.

"Draco, my good man how are you?" Harry asked in a fake posh like voice.

"Very well Harrison, I see you invited Lovegood?" Draco asked his eyes trailing to the blonde girl.

"Yes, quite right. Beautiful isn't she?" Harry asked with a silly grin coming to his face and Draco shook his head fondly.

"Quite right! Cousin, I demand you go change, you are being revealing." Draco said moving his attention to James who smiled.

"Hmmm, maybe I should…" James said and made to go but Rodger grabbed her around the waist.

"No." He blurted out before blushing as everyone cackled.

"Well at least you Hermione and Miss Lovegood look very beautiful without being revealing like my cousin." Draco said and Hermione smiled.

"Thank you Draco."

Then Professor McGonagall's voice called, "Champions over here, please!"

They said goodbye to everyone quickly and walked through the crowd who was parting to let them through. Professor McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim other hat, told them to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside; they were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down.

Fleur Delacour and Terry Boot stationed themselves nearest the doors; Terry looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off her. Harry and Luna were next near the door, both talking quietly and comfortably. Viktor and Hermione chatted to one another quite well as well, standing behind Harry and Luna. James and Davis were talking to each other as well when the twins and their dates showed up to go to the ball. James had frozen mid-sentence to see Fred. He was hot, his hair was darker, his dress robes were neatly pressed and were Maroon with tan trimming, he was a just something…she felt tears prickle her eyes again only to be brought back to Rodger.

"He hurt you bad didn't he?" Rodger asked and James looked up at him with a helpless look in her eyes.

"It still hurts to know that I still love him." James admitted and Rodger just pulled her into a hug.

"It's fine, tonight is about fun. Not about drama." Rodger told her.

James nodded taking a quick peek to see Fred was staring at her in shock with George but seemed to be a daze before George looked like someone had slapped him and he roughly pushed Fred into the Hall, Alicia and Angelina running to keep up with the twins.

Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting. The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

James was surprised as she was lead in an elaborate waltz quite easily by Rodger and was soon smiling happily, he was adding dips, turns, and twirls to make her giggle or smile. She however ignored the photos being taken of her even if she could see the flash. Harry she noticed was being lead through by Luna who was doing a remarkable job of keeping Harry's eyes up and on her and not his feet. Hermione seemed to be having fun to as Viktor twirled her around the dance floor. Fleur looked envious and downright pissed for no reason as Terry lead her flawlessly in a normal waltz.

Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table, but Karkaroff wore an expression remarkably like Ron's as he watched Krum and Hermione draw nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxine, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. But Mr. Crouch, James suddenly realized, was not there. The fifth seat at the table was occupied by Percy Weasley.

When the champions and their partners reached the table, Percy drew out the empty chair beside him, staring pointedly at Harry. Harry took the hint and sat down next to Percy, who was wearing brand-new, navy-blue dress robes and an expression of such smugness that James thought it ought to be fined.

"I've been promoted," Percy said before Harry could even ask, and from his tone, he might have been announcing his election as supreme ruler of the universe. James snorted into Rodger's shirt, he himself was chuckling at Percy's behavior.

"I'm now Mr. Crouch's personal assistant, and I'm here representing him."

"Why didn't he come?" Harry asked. He wasn't looking forward to being lectured on cauldron bottoms all through dinner.

"I'm afraid to say Mr. Crouch isn't well, not well at all. Hasn't been right since the World Cup. Hardly surprising - overwork. He's not as young as he was – though still quite brilliant, of course, the mind remains as great as it ever was. But the World Cup was a fiasco for the whole Ministry, and then, Mr. Crouch suffered a huge personal shock with the misbehavior of that house-elf of his, Blinky, or whatever she was called. Naturally, he dismissed her immediately afterward, but - well, as I say, he's getting on, he needs looking after, and I think he's found a definite drop in his home comforts since she left. And then we had the tournament to arrange, and the aftermath of the Cup to deal with - that revolting Skeeter woman buzzing around - no, poor man, he's having a well earned, quiet Christmas. I'm just glad he knew he had someone he could rely upon to take his place."

Harry wanted very much to ask whether Mr. Crouch had stopped calling Percy "Weatherby" yet, but resisted the temptation.

There was no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus were lying in front of each of them. Harry picked his up uncertainly and looked around - there were no waiters. Dumbledore, however, looked carefully down at his own menu, then said very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops!"

And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders with their plates too. Harry glanced up at Hermione to see how she felt about this new and more complicated method of dining - surely it meant plenty of extra work for the house-elves? but for once, Hermione didn't seem to be thinking about S.P.E.W. She was deep in talk with Viktor Krum and hardly seemed to notice what she was eating.

It now occurred to Harry that he had never actually heard Krum speak before, but he was certainly talking now, and very enthusiastically at that.

"Veil, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking," he was telling Hermione. "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these - though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains -"

"Now, now, Viktor!" said Karkaroff with a laugh that didn't reach his cold eyes, "don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Igor, all this secrecy… one would almost think you didn't want visitors."

"Well, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, displaying his yellowing teeth to their fullest extent, "we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and right to protect them?"

"Oh I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts' secrets, Igor," said Dumbledore amicably. "Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turn on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon - or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."

James snorted into her plate of steak. Percy frowned, but James could have sworn Dumbledore had given everyone a very small wink.

Meanwhile Fleur Delacour was criticizing the Hogwarts decorations to Terry Boot.

"Zis is nothing," she said dismissively, looking around at the sparkling walls of the Great Hall. "At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course… zey are like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave choirs of wood nymphs, 'oo serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of zis ugly armor in ze 'alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, 'e would be expelled like zat." She slapped her hand onto the table impatiently.

Terry Boot was watching her talk with a very dazed look on his face, and he kept missing his mouth with his fork. James had the impression that Boot was too busy staring at Fleur to take in a word she was saying.

"Absolutely right," he said quickly, slapping his own hand down on the table in imitation of Fleur. "Like that. Yeah."

James looked around the Hall. Hagrid was sitting at one of the other staff tables; he was back in the suit James had picked and created for him. James saw him give a small wave, and looking around, saw Madame Maxime return it, her opals glittering in the candlelight.

Hermione was now teaching Krum to say her name properly; he kept calling her "Hermy-own."

"Her-my-oh-nee," she said slowly and clearly.

"Herm-own-ninny."

"Close enough," she said, catching James's eye and grinning.

When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and James, who had been so interested in watching them that she had almost forgotten what was coming, suddenly realized that the lanterns on all the other tables had gone out, and that the other champions and their partners were standing up.

"Let's dance again shall we, James?" Rodger asked and James nodded giggling however she saw Angelina and Fred snogging at their table and blinked back tears, she was getting angry too, she could feel the cold flames of anger licking at her.

The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune; James walked onto the brightly lit dance floor, carefully avoiding catching anyone's eye as Rodger and her got into position.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been. James thought, revolving slowly on the spot (Rodger was steering). She kept her eyes fixed over the heads of the watching people, and very soon many of them too had come onto the dance floor, so that the champions were no longer the center of attention. Neville and Ginny were dancing nearby - she could see Ginny smiling gently as Neville trod on her feet apologizing quickly – and Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxine.

He was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin; however, she moved very gracefully for a woman so large. Mad-Eye Moody was doing an extremely ungainly two-step with Professor Sinistra, who was nervously avoiding his wooden leg.

"Nice socks Potter," Moody growled as he passed, his magical eye staring through Harry's robes.

"Oh - yeah, Dobby the house-elf knitted them for me," said Harry, grinning.

"He's nice to comment on your socks Harry." Luna said and Harry grinned at her.

"Yes but you wore those earrings I love so much." His hand coming up to touch the radish earrings, they were shrunken and were hidden with her hair so most people didn't notice, however Harry had took in every detail of the woman.

James heard the final, quavering note from the bagpipe with relief. The Weird Sisters stopped playing, applause filled the hall once more, and James giggled with Rodger, they both hated the Weird Sisters music. James and Rodger began to dance anyway as a faster song came on the two were in sync, although Rodger was the one who was helping her dance, she was hopeless at it. She was going to say something when Angelina shoved her from behind. James however was so sick of Angelina she turned around and grabbed her hair and pulled her out of the Hall. James eyes were alight with malice as she glared at Angelina who glared right back.

"I'm asking you this once and only once. What the fuck is your problem?" James asked snarling at Angelina who looked ready to snarl right back.

"It was an accident." Angelina began only to be cut off by James as Rodger and Fred came out of the Hall together watching the about to be cat fight.

"Accident my ass, bitch you fucking stole my boyfriend, been rubbing that shit in my face, and let's not forget the fact that you were one of the ones who fucking hated my guts for being champion. I Don't Give a Fuck about you shoving me in the dance floor I want to know where you get off doing all this to me!" James Screamed at Angelina the rage that had built up being let loose and Rodger nodded his head, she needed this.

"What did you do to me? Bitch what didn't you do! I was gone for a year and you take my Quidditch spot, you steal my love interest! You fucking took everything that was supposed to be mine! SO I took some of it back! It was mine in the first place!" Angelina screamed right back, a slight insane look in her eyes.

"Fred isn't a fucking object bitch, he's his own person! If he fucking was yours in the first place he wouldn't have been with me when you came back slut!" James screamed, Rodger ran off into the Hall, he needed to find the other Twin, maybe he could get the two to calm down, his brother was too dazed to even do anything.

"Fuck you! Your just a fucking slutty pureblood that spreads her legs for just about anyone! That's why people like you!" Angelina screamed.

"Get over yourself first bitch! I'm a virgin so you can fucking suck Peeves you fucking dumbass slutty cock whore! I don't fucking spread my legs for anyone, not even to fucking Fred. He fucking spread his legs for me though, did you know? He was mine, bitch, and I was his. You probably haven't even got that far with him have you?" James asked and Angelina blushed, she hadn't not that she hadn't tried but Fred began to break through the Confundus Charm she had placed on him began to falter and Fred began to come back to his senses. George came running out of the hall with Rodger at his heels, Alicia coming out with them.

"He may have been yours once but he's mine now you easy slag." Angelina snarled and lunged at James who was ready for her. They landed harshly and began beating on the other, punches, kicks, biting, and clawing. They didn't give a fuck they just wanted the other to be hurt. As they fought George ran to his twin and began to take the Confundus charm off his twin, it worked slowly and by then James was being pushed down, her small not helping against the bigger girl.

"What's going on here?" Fred snapped his eyes refocusing and landing on the fight. Angelina looked up startled and James still fuming about Angelina using her weight against her slugged Angelina right in the face and kicked her off of her. James got up breathing heavily, her face felt like what the others had felt from Crookshanks.

"Your fucking girlfriend finally pissed me the fuck off." James snarled as she glared at Angelina who was pale.

"But your my girlfriend…"Fred trailed off confused.

"Oh now you fucking remember, been snogging Angelina daily in front of me and taking her to this fucking dance.

"What are you talking about?" Fred asked alarmed, he looked down at himself in shock and then at everyone else.

"What the fuck is going on here?" He spluttered out, he was so fucking confused.

"Angelina's been using to Confundus charm on you." George spoke up his voice hard as he glared at Angelina. Alicia gasped herself, why would Angelina do such a thing?

"What…why?" Fred asked in disbelief.

"Because you were mine until that hussy stole you from me, she stole everything from me!" Angelina screamed shrilly. James was soon reminded of Aunt Petunia and her face turned pale and blank before turning red with furry and she nailed Angelina in the face with a solid punch, breaking her nose, and James's hand.

"You did this all over petty jealousy. You ruined my relationship, because you wanted my boyfriend, you made me out to be the bad guy in everything because you were jealous of my friends, admirers, and basically my life? You stupid bitch!" James shrieked but she didn't got to hit her again, fuck her. She wasn't worth the extra pain it would cause.

"Leave…" James told Angelina who stared at her thunderstruck.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" James roared, and Angelina ran stumbling back into the hall. James then dropped to her knees sobbing in pain, rage, and more pain. George and Rodger left as Fred slowly walked over to the girl. He sat by her and slowly pulled her into an embrace.

"Jamie." Fred called to the girl and James only shook her head burring further into Fred breathing in his addictive smell. Fred breathed in her own scent and kissed her lips, her nose, her eyes, her cheeks, her chin, and her neck. Peppering her face with kisses, she held the girl close to them. Professor McGonagall watched from the doors she was about to come out and tell them off but something made her stop.

"I hate you." James told him still sobbing.

"I love you too." Fred told her kissing her head and holding her close.

"Don't ever do this to me again. Ever Fredrick Fabian Weasley!" James told him demandingly.

"I swear I won't." Fred told her.

"Now tell me…" James said and Fred smiled softly at her.

"I love you. Love look at me." Fred whispered, and James looked over at him.

"I'm looking love." James whispered even quieter and then they didn't need words anymore, their eyes told them all they needed to know. Fred could see James had really needed him these past months that Angelina had caused his little love heartbreak, betrayal, and bittersweet hate to love someone that betrayed you. James could see the hurt in his eyes that he had hurt her, the pain of betrayal that Angelina would stoop so low, and the regret that he hadn't been there with her at all.

Professor McGonagall walked away from them, they could have their moment, she had seen the change and hadn't liked what the two had been like during it. James was basically a walking zombie and Fred was a puppet.

'I love you.' Their eyes spoke and they leaned into a sweet tender kiss that soon turned hungered and animalistic, they gripped each other close. They were reunited and then separated as the Great Hall doors swung open again.

"Well fuck you too Ronald!" Hermione screeched before running off. Sharing a tender kiss James raced after Hermione while Fred went to see Ron who was pale and shaking.

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So, did all hell break loose? I thought it did, hope you guys liked these 26 PAGES I wrote for you guys, around 6,650 words.

Review please!

KrisxCross out~


	20. Chapter 20

Summer vacation started a few days ago so, =D yeah! Lol So I just want to tell you guys that I'm really happy how many people liked my story I thought for sure someone would flame it at least once, I mean I make a lot of grammar mistakes or I put him instead of her for James. But I'd like to thank everyone for helping continue with the story so THANK YOU!

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James found Hermione sobbing, her make up running down her face but she wasn't much better.

"What's wrong babe? Do I have to go beat some ginger ass?" James asked in her best George voice that had Hermione snorting lightly in to her sobs.

"He's such a prat! James, he made me feel bad for going to the dance with Viktor. He just kept saying I was being a traitor to the school because Viktor is the Drumstang champion! He's such a git!" Hermione cried and James just patted her head lightly and hugged her.

"Ron likes you Hermmy. He just doesn't understand why he was feeling jealous of you and Viktor so he reacted like a git that we both know and love." James told Hermione who was slowly stopping her tears. Finally looking up she let out a gasp and touched James's bruising jaw.

"What happened James? You look awful!" Hermione exclaimed and James grinned lightly.

"Fought Angelina, got my boy back, and I think I broke my hand." James told her, a sense of pride, relief, and joy in her voice. Hermione on the other hand looked horrified.

"So what happened? Broken? Let me see it." Hermione demanded answers that James readily gave, she wasn't taking any heat for it, Hermione knew this as she healed James hand, and it wasn't hard or anything just a bit tricky in the wording.

"So a Confundus Charm?" Hermione asked in shock and James nodded.

"If you use it right it can be like the imperious however you have to trust the person that uses the Confundus on you for it to work properly." James said and Hermione nodded understanding.

"I'm glad you're happy again James." Hermione said and the two talked through the night before passing out on Hermione's bed not noticing when the other two girls got back.

Waking up late the two barely took showers and wiped off their make up before going off to class, yawning lightly. However Care for Magical Creatures had put James in rather pissed off mood, Pansy being the bitch she was however was in for a rude awakening.

"I'm Professor Grubbly-Plank, I'm taking over for Hagrid." The woman was very gristly, her wrinkled old face was hard as stone as she gazed at everything.

"Today we will be studying Unicorns, they prefer a woman's touch, Step back boys step back!" The woman said and James strode forward but not to close, she knew that a Unicorn could be as mean as a hippogriff if threatened. She however heard Harry getting angry at Pansy and looked over to see the Daily Profit in his hands, going over she snatched it out of his hands and began to read.

It was an article topped with a picture of Hagrid looking extremely shifty.

DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE

Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.

Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates.

An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being "very frightening." 'I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm," says Pansy Parkinson, a fourth-year student. "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything."

Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed "Blast-Ended Skrewts," highly dangerous crosses between manti-cores and fire-crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions.

"I was just having some fun," he says, before hastily changing the subject. As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not - as he has always pretended - a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown. Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror.

While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature.

In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought around You-Know-Who's fall from power - thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who's supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend – but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants.

James finished reading and looked up at Harry, whose mouth was hanging open.

"How did she find out?" he whispered. But that wasn't what was bothering James

"What d'you mean, 'we all hate Hagrid'?"

James spat at Parkinson. "What's this rubbish about him" - she pointed at Crabbe - "getting a bad bite off a flobberworm? They haven't even got teeth!"

Crabbe was sniggering, apparently very pleased with himself.

"I don't know why you're laughing! For merlin sakes it gives off a very bad name for your family Idiot!" Blaise snapped to the left, he was glaring now as well.

"Well, I think this should put an end to the oaf's teaching career," said Pansy, her eyes glinting. "Half-giant… and there was me thinking he'd just swallowed a bottle of Skele-Gro when he was young… None of the mummies and daddies are going to like this at all… They'll be worried he'll eat their kids, ha, ha…"

"You, idiotic slag-" James began.

"Are you paying attention over there?"

Professor Grubbly-Planks voice carried over to the boys; the girls were all clustered around the unicorn now, stroking it. James was so angry that the Daily Prophet article shook in her hands as she turned to stare unseeingly at the unicorn, whose many magical properties Professor Grubbly-Plank was now enumerating in a loud voice, so that the boys could hear too.

"I hope she stays, that woman!" said Parvati Patil when the lesson had ended and they were all heading back to the castle for lunch. "That's more what I thought Care of Magical Creatures would be like… proper creatures like unicorns, not monsters…"

"What about Hagrid?" James said angrily as they went up the steps.

"What about him?" said Parvati in a hard voice. "He can still be gamekeeper, can't he?"

Parvati had been acting more and more like Lavender over the days, even to her nightly wonderings around in other's beds. James wasn't getting any nicer however to her. Padma agreed with her, her twin needed a good smack.

"Yeah, say that the next time he ever helps you out." James snarked and turned around her hair slapping Parvati in the face as she turned.

"That was a really good lesson," said Hermione as they entered the Great Hall. "I didn't know half the things Professor Grubbly-Plank told us about uni -"

"Look at this!" Harry snarled, and he shoved the Daily Prophet article under Hermione's nose.

Hermione's mouth fell open as she read. Her reaction was exactly the same as Ron's.

"How did that horrible Skeeter woman find out? You don't think Hagrid told her?"

"No," said Harry, leading the way over to the Gryffindor table and throwing himself into a chair, furious. "He never even told us, did he? I reckon she was so mad he wouldn't give her loads of horrible stuff about me, she went ferreting around to get him back."

"Maybe she heard him telling Madame Maxime at the ball," said Hermione quietly.

"We'd have seen her in the garden!" said Ron. "Anyway, she's not supposed to come into school anymore, Hagrid said Dumbledore banned her…"

"Maybe she's got an Invisibility Cloak," said Harry, ladling chicken casserole onto his plate and splashing it everywhere in his anger. "Sort of thing she'd do, isn't it, hide in bushes listening to people."

"Like you and Ron did, you mean," said Hermione.

"We weren't trying to hear him!" said Ron indignantly. "We didn't have any choice! The stupid prat, talking about his giantess mother where anyone could have heard him!"

"We've got to go and see him," said Harry. "This evening, after Divination. Tell him we want him back… you do want him back?" he shot at Hermione.

"I - well, I'm not going to pretend it didn't make a nice change, having a proper Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once - but I do want Hagrid back, of course I do!" Hermione added hastily, quailing under Harry's furious stare.

"The woman didn't know anything about Unicorns." James said and the others turned to look at her in a questioning manner.

"She had notes written hastily all over her wrists and palms. She kept brushing her hair out of her face and glancing up so I got curious and saw them." James told them and they all nodded they needed Hagrid back.

So that evening after dinner, the four of them left the castle once more and went down through the frozen grounds to Hagrid's cabin. They knocked, and Fang's booming barks answered.

"Hagrid, it's us!" Harry shouted, pounding on the door. "Open up!"

Hagrid didn't answer. They could hear Fang scratching at the door, whining, but it didn't open. They hammered on it for ten more minutes; Ron even went and banged on one of the windows, but there was no response.

"What's he avoiding us for?" Hermione said when they had finally given up and were walking back to the school. "He surely doesn't think we'd care about him being half-giant?"

But it seemed that Hagrid did care. They didn't see a sign of him all week. He didn't appear at the staff table at mealtimes, they didn't see him going about his gamekeeper duties on the grounds, and Professor Grubbly-Plank continued to take the Care of Magical Creatures classes. Pansy was gloating at every possible opportunity.

"Missing your half-breed pal?" she kept whispering to James whenever there was a teacher around, so that she was safe from James's retaliation. "Missing the elephantman?"

She however shut up quite quickly when James slugged her in Transfiguration after a nasty comment she had made.

"I mean no one really misses that oaf anyways, he could go drown himself in ditch and we'd all be happier for it." Pansy said and turned around to get back to her work only to turn into James's fist.

"Black! What one earth!" Professor McGonagall said her eyes wide as she took them in,

"I'll take what every punishment, Professor. You still won't make me say sorry to that…that thing." James said her eyes and voice hard as she stared down Pansy who was whimpering and clutching her nose. James ended up with detention however it was out of the way one that wouldn't mess with her any.

There was a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January. Hermione was very surprised that Harry was going to go.

"I just thought you'd want to take advantage of the common room being quiet," she said. "Really get to work on that egg." Her eyes wondered over to James who was tapping the egg like a child, her eyes wide, Fred was next to her and was using her shoulder as a resting place as she worked on figuring out the egg.

"What if it changes underwater?" James asked and Fred smirked and took her hand and lead her up to the sixth years dorm. He filled up this huge bath that she was still in shock of being up there. After a few minutes there was enough water to get in with the egg and still more room. James shyly undressed to her knickers and bra, Fred stared unabashed at silky pale skin that was out in his view. She quickly took the egg and went in the bathroom, her eyes closing as she submerged with the golden egg. Fred couldn't keep his eyes off her, his eyes trailing every curve and then watching as her hair fanned out around her in the water like a mermaid was really quite something. Opening the egg he watched as her eyes widened as the egg began to say something to her. Fred wouldn't know seeing as he wasn't in the water with her.

"Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

Your time's half-gone, so tarry not,

Lest what you seek stays here to rot," James said as she came up, the golden egg closed.

"Oh! This answers everything, Freddie! I can't believe it!" James said not really noticing as Fred stalked forward until she was being kissed rather heatedly. She couldn't help the moan that left her mouth as she pulled herself closer to Fred who broke the kiss, his lips peppering kissing down her throat before nipping and biting on one spot.

"Fred…" James breathed out as Fred sucked on her neck, she was blushing and felt hot, her breath coming out in pants. Fred got closer as he slid into the bath in his clothes, his hands wandering James body, memorizing her every curve and dip. She couldn't stop the moan leaving her lips as he unclasped her bra and began to suckle at her breasts.

"Fuck…" James hissed as she ground herself down on too Fred's erection that was straining against his pants. One of her hands kept Fred's head to her breast while the other came down and began to take off his pants, it was going good until she couldn't pull them off fully. However it was a minor setback as she quickly took his boxers off with the pants with Fred's help.

"Love you." Fred whispered to her and she smiled.

"And I love you." James told him as he took off her panties waggling his eyebrows at her causing her to blush, the pink staining down to her breasts. Fred smirked and dunked down and hiked James legs over his shoulders her core near his face. He licked at her folds once before moaning and going in deeper, using his teeth to scrape against her and then finding her entrance, he began to lap at it before pushing his tongue into her.

"Oh, merlin…fuck!" James exclaimed her eyes closing as her back arched Fred's arm's around her hip's barely keeping her up, as well as her hands that gripped the edge of the bath tub, her knuckles turning white. Fred then lowered a hand into the water and slid one finger into her, slowly, James moaned lowly it wasn't painful it was slightly weird however. Soon a second entered and the pleasure came back, she was a moaning mess at the feeling as he moved his mouth to suck on her clit.

"Fuck!" James exclaimed as the heat in her stomach seemed to release itself, rushing down to Fred who happily lapped and sucked the substance off his fingers before letting her legs off his shoulders and coming up with a shuddering breath and pulling her into a kiss. Their teeth clacked against each other in their kissing frenzy, their tongues dueled as Fred positioned James above his dick, preforming a quick spell to ensure James wouldn't get pregnant.

"Are you sure, Jamie?" Fred asked his chocolate brown eyes staring into her blue ones.

"Yeah, yeah Fred I am." James said and then Fred brought her into a kiss before thrusting in, breaking her virgin barrier, her scream muffled by Fred's lips.

"Shhh…" Fred soothed as James whimpered into his neck, burying her head there. It had hurt she knew, however she had also seen the pink tint of some of the water meaning she was bleeding. Soon the pain ebbed away and James squirmed a bit causing Fred to hiss and thrust his hips lightly. She moaned lowly, that feeling good god she needed more.

"Fred, baby more." James whispered into Fred's ear and he grunted as he positioned James up against the tub still buried deep into her before he pulled almost all the way out and the slamming back in. James let out a loud gasp, her head falling back, Fred however didn't stop as he was spurred on by her reactions. James just gripped on to the tub and thrusted back down into Fred's thrust moaning and cursing in harmony to Fred's groans and grunts.

"Feeling it Baby, close." James whined and Fred just smirked, he was close as well so he began to piston into James who moaned louder at the feel before Fred's hand sneeked down and pinched her clit lightly and Fred slammed his mouth onto James in time to stop her scream as she climaxed.

"Jay…"Fred grunted out his release as he held onto James tightly still. Panting the two shared a quick kiss before Fred cleaned them both off with a cloth that was ready for the next boy to bathe. Cleaning up the bathroom he picked up his girlfriend and their clothes and brought her into his bed, laying her down he joined her into the bed. What neither saw was a beetle scuttling to the window, cackling in glee. Waking up was nice, Fred nuzzling her awake was better. However getting dressed was hard, however she managed and with another quick kiss she left the room, she quickly scuttled up to her room, she was slightly sore but she couldn't keep the grin off her face.

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Review please and also I have given you an alternative ending that is NOT a part of the story. It was just me having gotten into my head so I decided to share. Also…You are welcome Bre…I know you were waiting for it. Hell I know a lot of you pervs were waiting for this ;D. I was waiting to write it so I'm with you guys haha.

KrisxCross out~

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**NOT PART OF THE STORY: **

However at breakfast, everyone seemed to be watching her and Fred as if they were a science experiment. Draco, Blaise, and Theodore however looked angry at something and were writing something, Draco's eagle owl was near them.

"What are you looking at?" James finally snapped at Lavender who was still staring at her with wide eyes that soon turned amused.

"Finally got your cherry popped did you Black?" Lavender asked and Fred and James both choked on their muffins they had been eating and looked over to see Lavender holding up the Daily Profit. It had a picture of her and Fred making out in the tub, from the angle you couldn't see if James was naked or not. The title read "Black Heiress canoodling with Weasley Twin"

'The real question is how these two were able to get together or does Hogwarts promote sexual exchanges on their property. Another good question would be which Weasley Twin is James Black having an affair with, or is she with both of them? Both Twins have been seen with James Black on numerous occasions.

"James is always hanging off the Twins," Said Pansy Parkinson a classmate of James Black, "It's really quite sad to see how desperate she is."

Where are the parents of these two doing? Well I know for one James Black's Father is off Parading around with a known werewolf that was James Black's third year defense against the dark arts teacher. Arthur Weasley however is slowly falling behind his own son Percy in their ministry jobs, showing how awfully pathetic he really is. But really what can we say for the future? Shall we be expecting a little Weasley to be running around soon? I say the two should be separated if they can't control themselves on school property.'

James was beat red in anger, embarrassment, and rage.

"Desperate? You're calling me desperate Parkinson? I'm not the one that hangs off Draco and isn't his fucking girlfriend bitch, you want to see desperate than look in the fucking mirror!" James snapped before getting up and leaving, Fred running after her.

"Jamie…" Fred began.

"No, She's gone to far and I know exactly where she'll be too." James said and Fred was trying to hold her back as she made her way outside. The day they could go to Hogsmeade were today, Filch checked them off his list but he stayed silent, Black looked pissed and he wasn't getting in the way of her war path. Walking with a rage in her eyes towards the Three Broomsticks, she entered only to be met with wolf whistles.

"Shut up!" James roared and the whole place quieted in fear, they had seen the Blacks like this and you did not want to be in the middle of that bitch fit. James sat at a table and Fred sat across trying to calm her down, he succeeded only slightly.

"I knew it." James muttered darkly and Fred looked over towards the entrance. Rita Skeeter had just entered. She was wearing banana-yellow robes today; her long nails were painted shocking pink, and she was accompanied by her paunchy photographer. She bought drinks, and she and the photographer made their way through the crowds to a table nearby. James and Fred glaring at her as she approached. She was talking fast and looking very satisfied about something.

"… didn't seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo? Now, why would that be, do you think? And what's he doing with a pack of goblins in town anyway? Showing them the sights… what nonsense… he was always a bad liar. Reckon something's up? Think we should do a bit of digging? 'Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman… ' Snappy start to a sentence, Bozo - we just need to find a story to fit it -"

"Trying to ruin someone else's life?" James asked loudly and meanacingly.

A few people looked around. Rita Skeeter's eyes widened behind her jewelled spectacles as she saw who had spoken.

"James!" she said, beaming, her eyes however showed the fear she was truly feeling. "How lovely! Why don't you come and join-?"

"If I get up, I won't be joining you for anything, you'd be joining the patients at St. Mungo's however Rita." James sneered, her eyes sparkling with menace.

Rita Skeeter raised her heavily pencilled eyebrows.

"Our readers have a right to the truth, James. I am merely doing my-"

"Who gave you the right to put my business out to everyone!" James shouted. "You fucked with my friend and now you just fucked with me. Rita, you have made a grave mistake in thinking that my father or Fred's will allow you to ever post such a story. Your days are numbered."

The whole pub had gone very quiet. Madam Rosmerta was staring over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious to the fact that the flagon she was filling with mead was overflowing.

Rita Skeeters smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once; she snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her Quick-Quotes Quill, and said, "Oh come now, James, how about giving me the full details, girl to girl hmm?"

Fred stood up very abruptly, his fist were clenched in anger.

"You have no idea what you have done." he said, through gritted teeth, "you don't care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, wont they? Even Ludo Bagman -"

"Sit down, you silly little boy, and don't talk about things you don't understand," said Rita Skeeter coldly, her eyes hardening as they fell on Fred. "I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl…," she hissed at him only to back off as James stood in front of him.

"Fred can't hit girls, However I can. You better watch yourself Rita." James hissed.

"Protective of your boy toy aren-" Rita didn't get to say anymore as she was silenced by James who was glaring harshly.

"Let's go Fred. She's got an issue understanding the fact that she bit off more than she can chew." James told Fred who just kissed her head and led her out of the place.

They left; many people were staring at them as they went. James glanced back as they reached the door. Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill was out; it was zooming backward and forward over a piece of parchment on the table.

"Shhhh…" Fred told her clamly as she cried silently as she led him to the Shrieking Shack wanting to be alone.

"I hate her." James told his chest and he chuckled humorlessly.

"Me too, she probably got me killed. I can see it now, 'Black heiress's Weasley murdered by her father.'" Fred said and James snorted.

"'Weasley Matriarch kills Black Hieress in cold blood.'" James told Fred who snorted with her, they stayed their until leaving to brave the watching faces of everyone. However James had a look that screamed, 'Say something I fucking dare you.'

Fred however was right as he received a smoking howler that blew in the boys dorm.

"YOU DAMN RED HEAD, DEFLOWERING MY PRECIOUS INNOCENT DAUGHTER! HOW DARE YOU, I TRUSTED YOU TO NOT TOUCH HER IN SUCH A WAY AND YOU DO THIS? HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND? I HAVE THE MIND TO MURDER YOU, IF REMUS WASN'T HERE I PROBABLY WOULD HAVE GONE TO KILL YOU BOY!" Sirius Black's voice roared out and Fred looked pale for the rest of the day, no one could really say anything to him to comfort him. However the teachers were outraged that Rita had been able to get up into he boy's dormitory in the first place and had placed charges, as did Sirius, and Arthur.


	21. Chapter 21

Hello Loves! Here is new chapter just for you!

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James however wasn't prepared to see Hermione waiting up for her, her friend had a raised eyebrow at her before her eyes widened in pure shock.

"You didn't…" Hermione breathed in shock but her answer was obvious at the dark pink blush that stained her cheeks.

"Oh my Merlin James!" Hermione squealed and giggled as she ran forward and hugged James who giggled back and hugged Hermione the two jumping up and down happily.

"You two shut up!" Lavender snapped but James just smiled brightly at her, her eyes however were glaring and Lavender shuddering closed her curtains.

"I know! Oh it was bloody brilliant, Hermmy!" James told Hermione with a love sick voice that made Hermione smile, James was in love and she was just happy that Fred and her were back together again. Together the two walked off to breakfast where James stared in shock at the Daily Profit, There was Picture of Her and George playing around in the common room, Her legs over on his lap and they were talking animatedly about the canary creams.

She began to read the story, her eyebrows rising at the incredible ignorance of this article.

"**James Black, Hogwarts Champion, Dating?"**

_**James Black, an idol in her own right at Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry seems to be off the market. She has been seen on numerous occasions with one, George Weasley, and his twin brother for that matter parading around with love sick faces and words. However I have heard from a very reliable source that this happy coupling wasn't always so happy.**_

"_**Yeah, they broke up during the fall and George began to date Angelina Johnson, a pretty girl in his year. James being as shallow as could be couldn't believe that and she had a major breakdown over it." Pansy Parkinson told this reporter with a frowning face.**_

_**So is this love, or more like obsession for the Black heiress? We shall continue to see as she goes, but this reporter knows one thing, she feels sorry for George Weasley and his obsessed girlfriend.**_

Putting down the paper she could see Pansy watching her with a vindictive expression that turned to shock as James roared with laughter and it didn't help that the twins and Lee entered the Great Hall.

"George Weasley! When were you going to tell me we were dating?" James cackled and George confused walked over towards the paper and then fell about laughing as well after reading.

"Yes she should feel sorry for me with your obsession of my person." George told her with a laugh and James fell about laughing as well.

"Oi, Parkinson! If you're going to lie, then you should at least tell her which Weasley Twin I'm really as you so put it, Obsessed with!" James called out and Pansy blush deep red at the looks she received and sunk into her seat as Draco, Blaise, and Theodore roared with laughter themselves, their own Daily Prophet laid out before them. Harry and Ron walked over to join them and that's when Phineas who had been hanging out more with his friends walked over and hugged James who smirked and patted his head.

"How are you love?" She asked as he sat beside her, his dark black eyes however were slowly turning kinder the more he integrated into the Gryffindor house.

"A bit sleepy." He said rubbing his eyes and incurring "awwws" from the upper class girls that had James smirking and the guys rolling their eyes.

"And a bit hungry too." James told him and he smiled lightly nodding as he made a plate of eggs, bacon, and a strawberry muffin. James snatched the muffin and grinned as she and the other's began to leave for class.

"So have you figured out the egg?" Harry asked and James snorted lightly.

"You said you'd already worked out that egg clue!" said Hermione indignantly.

"Maybe." James told him with a grin as he groaned lowly.

"Come on please?" He asked as they walked into Charms walking towards the back and James smiled at them but Hermione was pissed.

"You lied!" Hermione snapped at him.

"Keep your voice down!" said Harry crossly. "I just need to - sort of fine-tune it, all right?"

They were sitting at the very back of the Charms class with a table to themselves. They were supposed to be practicing the opposite of the Summoning Charm today - the Banishing Charm. Owing to the potential for nasty accidents when objects kept flying across the room. Professor Flitwick had given each student a stack of cushions on which to practice, the theory being that these wouldn't hurt anyone if they went off target. It was a good theory, but it wasn't working very well. Neville's aim was so poor that he kept accidentally sending much heavier things flying across the room - Professor Flitwick, for instance.

"Just forget the egg for a minute, all right?" Harry hissed as Professor Flitwick went whizzing resignedly past them, landing on top of a large cabinet. "I'm trying to tell you about Snape and Moody…"

This class was an ideal cover for a private conversation, as everyone was having far too much fun to pay them any attention. Harry had been recounting his adventures of the previous night in whispered installments for the last half hour.

"Snape said Moody's searched his office as well?" Ron whispered, his eyes alight with interest as he Banished a cushion with a sweep of his wand (it soared into the air and knocked Parvati's hat off). "What… d'you reckon Moody's here to keep an eye on Snape as well as Karkaroff?"

"Well, I dunno if that's what Dumbledore asked him to do, but he's definitely doing it," said Harry, waving his wand without paying much attention, so that his cushion did an odd sort of belly flop off the desk. "Moody said Dumbledore only lets Snape stay here because he's giving him a second chance or something…"

"What?" said Ron, his eyes widening, his next cushion spinning high into the air, ricocheting off the chandelier, and dropping heavily onto Flitwick's desk. "Harry… maybe Moody thinks Snape put your name in the Goblet of Fire!"

"Oh Ron," said Hermione, shaking her head sceptically, "we thought Snape was trying to kill Harry before, and it turned out he was saving Harry's life, remember?"

"He stills hates you though mate." James told him with a laugh.

"Like he's just in love with you." Harry snapped back.

"Who knows the egg's secrete?" She asked and Harry just let his head hit the desk.

She Banished a cushion and it flew across the room and landed in the box they were all supposed to be aiming at. Harry looked at James, thinking… it was true that Snape had saved his life once, but the odd thing was, Snape definitely loathed him, just as he'd loathed Harry's father when they had been at school together.

Snape loved taking points from Harry, and had certainly never missed an opportunity to give him punishments, or even to suggest that he should be suspended from the school. Snape however loved taking points from James more, and the two had been in serious debate with each other over it, time and time again.

"I don't care what Moody says," Hermione went on. "Dumbledore's not stupid. He was right to trust Hagrid and Professor Lupin, even though loads of people wouldn't have given them jobs, so why shouldn't he be right about Snape, even if Snape is a bit -"

"- evil," said Ron promptly. "Come on, Hermione, why are all these Dark wizard catchers searching his office, then?"

"Why has Mr. Crouch been pretending to be ill?" said Hermione, ignoring Ron. "Its a bit funny, isn't it, that he can't manage to come to the Yule Ball, but he can get up here in the middle of the night when he wants to?"

"You just don't like Crouch because of that elf, Winky," said Ron, sending a cushion soaring into the window.

"You just want to think Snape's up to something," said Hermione, sending her cushion zooming neatly into the box.

"I just want to know what Snape did with his first chance, if he's on his second one," said Harry grimly, and his cushion, to his very great surprise, flew straight across the room and landed neatly on top of Hermione's.

Ron quite liked the idea of using the Summoning Charm again - Harry had explained about Aqua-Lungs, and Ron couldn't see why Harry shouldn't Summon one from the nearest Muggle town. Hermione squashed this plan by pointing out that, in the unlikely event that Harry managed to learn how to operate an Aqua- Lung within the set limit of an hour, he was sure to be disqualified for breaking the International Code of Wizarding Secrecy - it was too much to hope that no Muggles would spot an Aqua-Lung zooming across the countryside to Hogwarts. James wasn't being forthcoming at all, the twins helping by leading her away and saying how dare he try and cheat off of her.

"Of course, the ideal solution would be for you to Transfigure yourself into a submarine or something," Hermione said. "If only we'd done human Transfiguration already! But I don't think we start that until sixth year, and it can go badly wrong if you don't know what you're doing…"

"Transfiguraiting yourself into a submarine?" James asked in shock, but then her eyes went wide before a cackle left her mouth, the twins soon running after her, wide grins on their faces.

"Yeah, I don't fancy walking around with a periscope sticking out of my head," said Harry. "I s'pose I could always attack someone in front of Moody; he might do it for me…"

"I don't think he'd let you choose what you wanted to be turned into, though," said Hermione seriously.

So Harry, thinking that he would soon have had enough of the library to last him a lifetime, buried himself once more among the dusty volumes, looking for any spell that might enable a human to survive without oxygen. However, though he, Ron, and Hermione searched through their lunchtimes, evenings, and whole weekends - though Harry asked Professor McGonagall for a note of permission to use the Restricted Section, and even asked the irritable, vulture-like librarian Madam Pince, for help - they found nothing whatsoever that would enable Harry to spend an hour underwater and live to tell the tale.

Familiar flutterings of panic were starting to disturb Harry now, and he was finding it difficult to concentrate in class again. The lake, which Harry had always taken for granted as just another feature of the grounds, drew his eyes whenever he was near a classroom window, a great, iron-gray mass of chilly water, whose dark and icy depths were starting to seem as distant as the moon.

James and the twins weren't helping anything at all, their wide grins and laughter could be heard from the sixth year boy's dorm, Lee Jordan had come down with a shit eating grin that had them all wondering what was in store for everyone.

Just as it had before he faced the Horntail, time was slipping away as though somebody had bewitched the clocks to go extra-fast. There was a week to go before February the twenty-fourth (there was still time)… there were five days to go (he was bound to find something soon)… three days to go (please let me find something… please)… With two days left Harry started to go off food again, James had slapped him silly but she was dodging close to the line as well with her meals and when asked what she was doing she had answered simply with, "Research."

Whether Hagrid was trying to make up for the Blast-Ended Skrewts, or because there were now only two skrewts left, or because he was trying to prove he could do anything that Professor Grubbly-Plank could, Harry didnt know, but Hagrid had been continuing her lessons on unicorns ever since he'd returned to work. It turned out that Hagrid knew quite as much about unicorns as he did about monsters, though it was clear that he found their lack of poisonous fangs disappointing.

Today he had managed to capture two unicorn foals. Unlike full-grown unicorns, they were pure gold. Parvati and Lavender went into transports of delight at the sight of them, and even Pansy Parkinson had to work hard to conceal how much she liked them.

"Easier ter spot than the adults," Hagrid told the class. "They turn silver when they're abou' two years old, an' they grow horns at aroun four. Don' go pure white till they're full grown, 'round about seven. They're a bit more trustin when they're babies… don mind boys so much… C'mon, move in a bit, yeh can pat 'em if yeh want… give 'em a few o' these sugar lumps…

"You okay Harry?" Hagrid muttered, moving aside slightly, while most of the others swarmed around the baby unicorns.

"Yeah," said Harry.

"Jus' nervous, eh?" said Hagrid.

"Bit," said Harry.

"Harry," said Hagrid, clapping a massive hand on his shoulder, so that Harry's knees buckled under its weight, "I'd've bin worried before I saw yeh take on tha Horntail, but I know now yeh can do anythin' yeh set yer mind ter. I'm not worried at all. Yeh're goin ter be fine. Got yer clue worked out, haven' yeh?"

Harry nodded, but even as he did so, an insane urge to confess that he didn't have any idea how to survive at the bottom of the lake for an hour came over him. He looked up at Hagrid - perhaps he had to go into the lake sometimes, to deal with the creatures in it? He looked after everything else on the grounds, after all-

"Yeh're goin' ter win," Hagrid growled, patting Harrys shoulder again, so that Harry actually felt himself sink a couple of inches into the soft ground. "I know it. I can feel it. Yeh're goin' ter win, Harry"

Harry just couldn't bring himself to wipe the happy, confident smile off Hagrid's face. Pretending he was interested in the young unicorns, he forced a smile in return, and moved forward to pat them with the others.

By the evening before the second task Harry felt as though he were trapped in a nightmare. He was fully aware that even if, by some miracle, he managed to find a suitable spell, he'd have a real job mastering it overnight. How could he have let this happen? Why hadn't he got to work on the egg's clue sooner? Why had he ever let his mind wander in class - what if a teacher had once mentioned how to breathe underwater?

He sat with Hermione and Ron in the library as the sun set outside, tearing feverishly through page after page of spells, hidden from one another by the massive piles of books on the desk in front of each of them. Harry s heart gave a huge leap every time he saw the word "water" on a page, but more often than not it was merely "Take two pints of water, half a pound of shredded mandrake leaves, and a newt…"

"I don't reckon it can be done," said Ron's voice flatly from the other side of the table. "There's nothing. Nothing. Closest was that thing to dry up puddles and ponds, that Drought Charm, but that was nowhere near powerful enough to drain the lake."

"There must be something," Hermione muttered, moving a candle closer to her. Her eyes were so tired she was poring over the tiny print of Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes with her nose about an inch from the page. "They'd never have set a task that was undoable."

"They have," said Ron. "Harry, just go down to the lake tomorrow, right, stick your head in, yell at the merpeople to give back whatever they've nicked, and see if they chuck it out. Best you can do, mate."

"There's a way of doing it!" Hermione said crossly. "There just has to be!"

She seemed to be taking the library's lack of useful information on the subject as a personal insult; it had never failed her before.

"I know what I should have done," said Harry, resting, face-down, on Saucy Tricks for Tricky Sorts. "I should've learned to be an Animagus like Sirius, you, and James."

An Animagus was a wizard who could transform into an animal.

"Yeah, you could've turned into a goldfish any time you wanted!" said Ron.

"Or a frog," yawned Harry. He was exhausted.

"It takes years to become an Animagus, and then you have to register yourself and everything," said Hermione vaguely, now squinting down the index of Weird Wizarding Dilemmas and Their Solutions. "Professor McGonagall told us, remember… you've got to register yourself with the Improper Use of Magic Office… what animal you become, and your markings, so you can't abuse it…Don't tell James I've said that, and anyways it was a spur of the moment thing that James and I did. She never told me she had rigged the potion like those damn treats…Oh that bitch…"

"Hey, That's my girlfriend you're talking about," said Fred Weasleys voice. "And you're best friend, now I see why she loves us more."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up. Fred and George had just emerged from behind some bookshelves.

"What're you two doing here?" Ron asked.

"Looking for you," said George. "McGonagall wants you, Ron. And you, Hermione. Don't forget yourself Gred."

"Why?" said Hermione, looking surprised.

"Dunno… she was looking a bit grim, though, almost didn't let me leave either," said Fred.

"She want's you three down In her office, so I'd skedaddle if I were you." said George.

"Skedaddle? You've been hanging out with Nearly headless Nick again, haven't you?" Fred accused George who had the decency to blush.

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, who felt his stomach drop. Was Professor McGonagall about to tell Ron and Hermione off? Perhaps she'd noticed how much they were helping him, when he ought to be working out how to do the task alone?

"We'll meet you back in the common room," Hermione told Harry as she got up to go with Ron - both of them looked very anxious. "Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?"

"Right," said Harry uneasily.

By eight o'clock Madam Pince had extinguished all the lamps and came to chivvy Harry out of the library. Staggering under the weight of as many books as he could carry, Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room, pulled a table into a corner, and continued to search. There was nothing in Madcap Magic for Wacky Warlocks… nothing in A Guide to Medieval Sorcery… not one mention of underwater exploits in An Anthology of Eighteenth-Century Charms, or in Dreadful Denizens of the Deep, or Powers You Never Knew You Had and What to Do with Them Now You've Wised Up.

James however came down looking around and George finally entered the room going to James, the two hissing at each other as they debated before they ran up the stairs again.

Crookshanks crawled into Harry's lap and curled up, purring deeply. The common room emptied slowly around Harry. People kept wishing him luck for the next morning in cheery, confident voices like Hagrid s, all of them apparently convinced that he was about to pull off another stunning performance like the one he had managed in the first task.

Harry couldn't answer them, he just nodded, feeling as though there were a golf ball stuck in his throat. By ten to midnight, he was alone in the room with Crookshanks. He had searched all the remaining books, and Ron and Hermione had not come back.

It's over, he told himself. You can't do it. You'll just have to go down to the lake in the morning and tell the judges…

He imagined himself explaining that he couldn't do the task. He pictured Bagman's look of round-eyed surprise, Karkaroffs satisfied, yellow-toothed smile. He could almost hear Fleur Delacour saying "I knew it… 'e is too young, 'e is only a little boy." He saw Malfoy flashing his POTTER STINKS badge at the front of the crowd, saw Hagrid s crestfallen, disbelieving face…

Forgetting that Crookshanks was on his lap. Harry stood up very suddenly; Crookshanks hissed angrily as he landed on the floor, gave Harry a disgusted look, and stalked away with his bottlebrush tail in the air, but Harry was already hurrying up the spiral staircase to his dormitory… He would grab the Invisibility Cloak and go back to the library, he'd stay there all night if he had to…

"Lumos," Harry whispered fifteen minutes later as he opened the library door.

Wand tip alight, he crept along the bookshelves, pulling down more books – books of hexes and charms, books on merpeople and water monsters, books on famous witches and wizards, on magical inventions, on anything at all that might include one passing reference to underwater survival. He carried them over to a table, then set to work, searching them by the narrow beam of his wand, occasionally checking his watch…

One in the morning… two in the morning… the only way he could keep going was to tell himself, over and over again, next book… in the next one… the next one…

The mermaid in the painting in the prefects' bathroom was laughing. Harry was bobbing like a cork in bubbly water next to her rock, while she held his Firebolt over his head.

"Come and get it!" she giggled maliciously. "Come on, jump!"

"I can't," Harry panted, snatching at the Firebolt, and struggling not to sink. "Give it to me!"

But she just poked him painfully in the side with the end of the broomstick, laughing at him.

"That hurts - get off- ouch -"

"Harry Potter must wake up, sir!"

"Stop poking me -"

"Dobby must poke Harry Potter, sir, he must wake up!"

Harry opened his eyes. He was still in the library; the Invisibility Cloak had slipped off his head as he'd slept, and the side of his face was stuck to the pages of Where There's a Wand, There's a Way. He sat up, straightening his glasses, blinking in the bright daylight.

"Harry Potter needs to hurry!" squeaked Dobby. "The second task starts in ten minutes, and Harry Potter -"

"Ten minutes?" Harry croaked. "Ten - ten minutes?"

He looked down at his watch. Dobby was right. It was twenty past nine. A large, dead weight seemed to fall through Harry's chest into his stomach.

"Hurry, Harry Potter!" squeaked Dobby, plucking at Harry's sleeve. "You is supposed to be down by the lake with the other champions, sir!"

"It's too late, Dobby," Harry said hopelessly. "I'm not doing the task, I don't know how-"

"Harry Potter will do the task!" squeaked the elf. "Dobby knew Harry had not found the right book, so Dobby did it for him!"

"What?" said Harry. "But you don't know what the second task is -"

"Dobby knows, sir! Harry Potter has to go into the lake and find his Wheezy -"

"Find my what?"

"- and take his Wheezy back from the merpeople!"

"What's a Wheezy?"

"Your Wheezy, sir, your Wheezy-Wheezy who is giving Dobby his sweater!" Dobby plucked at the shrunken maroon sweater he was now wearing over his shorts.

"What?" Harry gasped. "They've got… they've got Ron?"

"The thing Harry Potter will miss most, sir!" squeaked Dobby. "'But past an hour- '"

"- 'the prospect's dire,'" Harry recited, staring, horror-struck, at the elf. "'Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.' Dobby - what've I got to do?"

"You has to eat this, sir!" squeaked the elf, and he put his hand in the pocket of his shorts and drew out a ball of what looked like slimy, grayish-green rat tails.

"Right before you go into the lake, sir - gillyweed!"

"What's it do?" said Harry, staring at the gillyweed.

"It will make Harry Potter breathe underwater, sir!"

"Dobby," said Harry frantically, "listen - are you sure about this?"

He couldn't quite forget that the last time Dobby had tried to "help" him, he had ended up with no bones in his right arm.

"Dobby is quite sure, sir!" said the elf earnestly. "Dobby hears things, sir, he is a house-elf, he goes all over the castle as he lights the fires and mops the floors. Dobby heard Professor McGonagall and Professor Moody in the staffroom, talking about the next task… Dobby cannot let Harry Potter lose his Wheezy!"

Harry's doubts vanished. Jumping to his feet he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, stuffed it into his bag, grabbed the gillyweed, and put it into his pocket, then tore out of the library with Dobby at his heels.

"Dobby is supposed to be in the kitchens, sir!" Dobby squealed as they burst into the corridor. "Dobby will be missed - good luck, Harry Potter, sir, good luck!"

"See you later, Dobby!" Harry shouted, and he sprinted along the corridor and down the stairs, three at a time.

The entrance hall contained a few last-minute stragglers, all leaving the Great Hall after breakfast and heading through the double oak doors to watch the second task.

They stared as Harry flashed past, sending Colin and Dennis Creevey flying as he leapt down the stone steps and out onto the bright, chilly grounds.

As he pounded down the lawn he saw that the seats that had encircled the dragons' enclosure in November were now ranged along the opposite bank, rising in stands that were packed to the bursting point and reflected in the lake below. The excited babble of the crowd echoed strangely across the water as Harry ran flat-out around the other side of the lake toward the judges, who were sitting at another golddraped table at the water's edge. Cedric, Fleur, and Krum were beside the judges' table, watching Harry sprint toward them.

"I'm… here…" Harry panted, skidding to a halt in the mud and accidentally splattering Fleurs robes.

"Where have you been?" said a bossy, disapproving voice. "The task's about to start!"

Harry looked around. Percy Weasley was sitting at the judges' table - Mr. Crouch had failed to turn up again.

"Now, now, Percy!" said Ludo Bagman, who was looking intensely relieved to see Harry. "Let him catch his breath!"

Dumbledore smiled at Harry, but Karkaroff and Madame Maxime didn't look at all pleased to see him… It was obvious from the looks on their faces that they had thought he wasn't going to turn up.

Harry bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath; he had a stitch in his side that felt as though he had a knife between his ribs, but there was no time to get rid of it; Ludo Bagman was now moving among the champions, spacing them along the bank at intervals of ten feet. Harry was on the very end of the line, next to Krum, who was wearing swimming trunks and was holding his wand ready.

"All right. Harry?" Bagman whispered as he moved Harry a few feet farther away from Krum. "Know what you're going to do?"

"Yeah," Harry panted, massaging his ribs.

"Good tah see yah Harry." James said, she was pale in her dark blue bikini top, ignoring the looks she was receiving from people, her bottom was a flowing skirt, it's fabric looked to be made up of sea plants.

Bagman gave Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze and returned to the judges' table; he pointed his wand at his throat as he had done at the World Cup, said, "Sonorus!" and his voice boomed out across the dark water toward the stands.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One… two… three!"

James walked forward quickly taking out a bright blue candy with a green center she popped it in to her mouth, wading waste deep into the water they all watched in shock as after swallowing her eyes seemed to glaze over, gills came out of her neck, and then diving in a light blue mermaid tail flipped out of the water. Silence pressed upon her ears as she soared over a strange, dark, foggy landscape. She could only see ten feet around her, so that as she sped through the water new scenes seemed to loom suddenly out of the incoming darkness: forests of rippling, tangled black weed, wide plains of mud littered with dull, glimmering stones. She swam deeper and deeper, out toward the middle of the lake, her eyes wide, staring through the eerily gray-lit water around her to the shadow beyond, where the water became opaque.

Small fish flickered past her like silver darts. Once or twice she thought she saw something larger moving ahead of her, but when she got nearer, she discovered it to be nothing but a large, blackened log, or a dense clump of weed. There was no sign of any of the other champions, merpeople, Fred - nor, thankfully, the giant squid. Light green weed stretched ahead of her as far as she could see, two feet deep, like a meadow of very overgrown grass. She changed course quickly cackling at seeing Harry go through it like an idiot she continued on.

James slowed down a little, popping another candy in her mouth as she began to tingle. She had to hurry, she could only take four without any lasting damage, poor Fred had to go to Poppy to get rid of his webbed feet. She turned full circle in the water, the silence pressing harder than ever against her eardrums. She knew she must be even deeper in the lake now, but nothing was moving but the rippling weed.

"How are you getting on?"

James thought she was having a heart attack. She whipped around and saw Moaning Myrtle floating hazily in front of her, gazing at him through her thick, pearly glasses.

"Myrtle!" James shrieked, in the merlanguage. Moaning Myrtle actually giggled.

"You want to try over there!" she said, pointing. "I won't come with you… I don't like them much, they always chase me when I get too close…"

James gave her a warm smile to show her thanks and set off once more, careful to swim a bit higher over the weed to avoid any grindylows.

James swam on for what felt like at least twenty minutes. She was passing over vast expanses of black mud now, which swirled murkily as she disturbed the water. Then, at long last, she heard a snatch of haunting mersong.

"An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took…"

James swam faster and soon saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it; they were carrying spears and chasing what looked like the giant squid. James swam on past the rock, following the mersong.

"… your time's half gone, so tarry not

Lest what you seek stays here to rot…"

A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom on all sides. Here and there at the dark windows, James saw faces… faces that bore no resemblance at all to the painting of the mermaid in the prefects' bathroom…

The merpeople had grayish skin and long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. They leered at James as she swam past; one or two of them emerged from their caves to watch her better, their powerful, silver fish tails beating the water, spears clutched in their hands.

James sped on, staring around, and soon the dwellings became more numerous; there were gardens of weed around some of them, and she even saw a pet grindylow tied to a stake outside one door.

Merpeople were emerging on all sides now, watching her eagerly, pointing at her sleek light blue and silverish fish tail, talking behind their hands to one another. James sped around a corner and a very strange sight met her eyes.

A whole crowd of merpeople was floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A choir of merpeople was singing in the middle, calling the champions toward them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue; a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. Four people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson.

Fred was tied between Hermione and Ron. There was also a girl who looked no older than eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made James feel sure that she was Fleur Delacour's sister. All four of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths.

James sped toward the hostages, half expecting the merpeople to lower their spears and charge at her, but they did nothing. The ropes of weed tying the hostages to the statue were thick, slimy, and very strong.

She looked around. Many of the merpeople surrounding them were carrying spears. She shook her head and raced forward, her now razor sharp talon's for nail and slashed the ropes that bound Fred. She felt her tail begin to dissipate but she quickly took him and swam to the surface as fast as she could. Coming out the two began gasping for air. Cheers lightly the air as she swam to shore with Fred next to her. The two being helped up by George and Hagrid, then given pepper up Potion the two waited for the task to end. She smiled lightly she had won that task and with a giggled she leaned into Fred who held her close raising an eyebrow at her giggling.

They watched as Fleur Delacour came up shaking her head, she couldn't reach her sister. She had suckers and bite marks from the Grindylows all over her person.

Next they watched Krum come up half shark with Hermione who was gasping for breath while Krum finally shook his hammerhead head and slowly morphed back into his normal self.

"Where's Harry?" James finally asked looking around, her stomach plummeting. And then slightly out of the time she could see him slowling down as he came to the surface, she was almost sure he would sink back down.

But then she saw his head break the surface of the lake; wonderful, cold, clear air was making his wet face sting; he gulped it down, feeling as though he had never breathed properly before, and, panting, pulled Ron and the little girl up with him. All around him, wild, green-haired heads were emerging out of the water with him, but they were smiling at him.

The crowd in the stands was making a great deal of noise; shouting and screaming, they all seemed to be on their feet; Harry had the impression they thought that Ron and the little girl might be dead, but they were wrong… both of them had opened their eyes; the girl looked scared and confused, but Ron merely expelled a great spout of water, blinked in the bright light, turned to Harry, and said, "Wet, this, isn't it?" Then he spotted Fleur's sister. "What did you bring her for?"

"Fleur didn't turn up, I couldn't leave her," Harry panted.

"Harry, you prat," said Ron, "you didn't take that song thing seriously, did you? Dumbledore wouldn't have let any of us drown!"

"The song said -"

"It was only to make sure you got back inside the time limit!" said Ron. "I hope you didn't waste time down there acting the hero!"

Harry felt both stupid and annoyed. It was all very well for Ron; he'd been asleep, he hadn't felt how eerie it was down in the lake, surrounded by spear-carrying merpeople who'd looked more than capable of murder.

"C'mon," Harry said shortly, "help me with her, I don't think she can swim very well."

They pulled Fleur's sister through the water, back toward the bank where the judges stood watching, twenty merpeople accompanying them like a guard of honour, singing their horrible screechy songs.

Harry could see Madam Pomfrey fussing over Hermione, Krum, James, and Fred, all of whom were wrapped in thick blankets.

Dumbledore and Ludo Bagman stood beaming at Harry and Ron from the bank as they swam nearer, but Percy, who looked very white and somehow much younger than usual, came splashing out to meet them.

"See, Percy was worried about you, I wasn't the only one that took the song seriously," Harry said.

Meanwhile Madame Maxime was trying to restrain Fleur Delacour, who was quite hysterical, fighting tooth and nail to return to the water.

"Gabrielle! Gabrielle! Is she alive? Is she 'urt?"

"She's fine!" Harry tried to tell her, but he was so exhausted he could hardly talk, let alone shout.

Percy seized Ron and was dragging him back to the bank ("Gerroff, Percy, I'm all right!"); Dumbledore and Bagman were pulling Harry upright; Fleur had broken free of Madame Maxime and was hugging her sister.

"It was ze grindylows… zey attacked me… oh Gabrielle, I thought… I thought…"

"Come here, you," said Madam Pomfrey. She seized Harry and pulled him over to Hermione and the others, wrapped him so tightly in a blanket that he felt as though he were in a straitjacket, and forced a measure of very hot potion down his throat.

Steam gushed out of his ears.

"Harry, well done!" Hermione cried. "You did it, you found out how all by yourself!"

"Well -" said Harry. He would have told her about Dobby, but he had just noticed Karkaroff watching him. He was the only judge who had not left the table; the only judge not showing signs of pleasure and relief that Harry, Ron, and Fleur's sister had got back safely. "Yeah, that's right," said Harry, raising his voice slightly so that Karkaroff could hear him.

"You haff a water beetle in your hair, Herm-own-ninny," said Krum. Harry had the impression that Krum was drawing her attention back onto himself; perhaps to remind her that he had just rescued her from the lake, but Hermione brushed away the beetle impatiently and said,

"You're well outside the time limit, though, Harry… Did it take you ages to find us?"

"No… I found you okay…"

Harry's feeling of stupidity was growing. Now he was out of the water, it seemed perfectly clear that Dumbledores safety precautions wouldn't have permitted the death of a hostage just because their champion hadn't turned up. Why hadn't he just grabbed Ron and gone?

Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish. Finally he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."

The judges went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey had gone to rescue Ron from Percy's clutches; she led him over to Harry and the others, gave him a blanket and some Pepperup Potion, then went to fetch Fleur and her sister. Fleur had many cuts on her face and arms and her robes were torn, but she didn't seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to clean them.

"Look after Gabrielle," she told her, and then she turned to Harry. "You saved 'er," she said breathlessly. "Even though she was not your 'ostage."

"Yeah," said Harry, who was now heartily wishing he'd left all three girls tied to the statue.

Fleur bent down, kissed Harry twice on each cheek (he felt his face burn and wouldn't have been surprised if steam was coming out of his ears again), then said to Ron, "And you too-you 'elped"

"Yeah," said Ron, looking extremely hopeful, "yeah, a bit -"

Fleur swooped down on him too and kissed him. Hermione looked simply furious, but just then, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows…

"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

Applause from the stands.

"I deserved zero," said Fleur throatily, shaking her magnificent head, James just patted her shoulder, Fleur smiled at the other girl for the first time then.

"James Black was the first to come with her hostage, using a new invention of her own called the…" here Bagman stopped and turned to see the Weasley Twins and James talking.

"Mermish Chew." James called out and the Twins nodded their red head's it was a good name.

"The Mermish Chew, She got back with thirty minutes to spare as well."

Enormous cheers from the Gryffindors and Slytherins in the crowd; Harry saw the twins give James a glowing look.

"We therefore award her forty nine points!"

James screamed jumping up and down and hugging the Twins who were grinning broadly.

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.

"Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect," Bagman continued. "He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was second to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own."

Ron and Hermione both gave Harry half-exasperated, half-commiserating looks.

"Most of the judges," and here, Bagman gave Karkaroff a very nasty look, "feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However… Mr. Potter's score is forty-five points."

Harry's stomach leapt - he was now tied for first place with James. Ron and Hermione, caught by surprise, stared at Harry, then laughed and started applauding hard with the rest of the crowd.

"There you go, Harry!" Ron shouted over the noise. "You weren't being thick after all - you were showing moral fiber!"

Fleur was clapping very hard too, but Krum didn't look happy at all. He attempted to engage Hermione in conversation again, but she was too busy cheering Harry to listen.

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," continued Bagman. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."

It was over. James thought dazedly, as Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes… it was over, she had got through… she didn't have to worry about anything now until June the twenty-fourth…

She however was a bit mad that Harry had tied with her, she had worked hard on that piece but she wouldn't say anything, even if her eyes burned, and her stomach bubbled with jealousy. She buried herself into Fred's side, he too seemed a bit jaded but the two stayed quiet, they should be lucky she had passed the task at all. Really all she wanted to do was sleep, her legs ached with the feeling of her swimming catching up to her. She was shocked when she was pulled up into Fred's arms and cuddled close to his chest in her blanket.

"Go on to sleep love, you have to be exhausted." He told her and she fell asleep quickly, her head falling to lay on his shoulder.

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Damn this Chapter was a long one, 7,000 and over really. So I hope you guys liked it, please review!

KrisxCross out~


	22. Chapter 22

So it's father's day and really I just wanted to put this chapter out so don't expect to have a fast update rate because of this, but a really unexpected one because really, I can't write anything without some motivation…..Threats from my cousin are one because I know she'd follow through. So enjoy, guys!

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One of the best things about the aftermath of the second task was that everybody was very keen to hear details of what had happened down in the lake, which meant that Ron was getting to share Harry's limelight for once. That was too say James again found herself on the sidelines, this time with twin boiling red heads for the ride. The only ones who seemed interested in her were the Ravenclaws and Slytherins, all of them wanting to know how they had made the "Mermish Chews." James however wasn't very forthcoming with the details besides to Draco and Blaise. She talked to Theodore as well but the two were still on a shaky based friendship at best anyways.

James noticed that Ron's version of events changed subtly with every retelling. At first, he gave what seemed to be the truth; it tallied with Hermione's story, anyway - Dumbledore had put all the hostages into a bewitched sleep in Professor McGonagall's office, first assuring them that they would be quite safe, and would awake when they were back above the water. One week later, however, Ron was telling a thrilling tale of kidnap in which he struggled single-handedly against fifty heavily armed merpeople who had to beat him into submission before tying him up.

"But I had my wand hidden up my sleeve," he assured Padma Patil, who seemed to be a lot keener on Ron now that he was getting so much attention and was making a point of talking to him every time they passed in the corridors. "I could've taken those mer-idiots any time I wanted."

"What were you going to do, snore at them?" said James waspishly. She didn't exactly want to admit to her jealousy but Ron trying to say he was doing something so grand and getting a spot light pissed her off since she didn't even get to share the spot light with Harry.

Ron's ears went red, and thereafter, he reverted to the bewitched sleep version of events.

As they entered March the weather became drier, but cruel winds skinned their hands and faces every time they went out onto the grounds. There were delays in the post because the owls kept being blown off course. However they still got a letter from Sirius and Remus.

**Brats,**

**We are coming to see you soon, so look out for your old man and his wolfy companion..**

**More like watch out for me and the idotic dog…**

**Don't be so mean Remus…**

**Sirius…you know what…**

**Remus! Violence is not the answer! Ow! Stop it!**

**Fine, we'll see you guys soon.**

**Love,**

**Remmy and Siri. **

James therefore approached the final lesson of the afternoon - double Potions - feeling considerably more cheerful than she usually did when descending the steps to the dungeons.

Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in a huddle outside the classroom door with Pansy Parkinson's gang of Slytherin girls. All of them were looking at something Harry couldn't see and sniggering heartily. Pansys pug-like face peered excitedly around Goyle's broad back as James, Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached.

"There they are, there they are!" she giggled, and the knot of Slytherins broke apart. Harry saw that Pansy had a magazine in her hands - Witch Weekly. "Witch Weekly, what could be in that?"

The moving picture on the front showed a curly-haired witch who was smiling toothily and pointing at a large sponge cake with her wand.

"You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!" Pansy said loudly, and she threw the magazine at Hermione, who caught it, looking startled. At that moment, the dungeon door opened, and Snape beckoned them all inside.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron headed for a table at the back of the dungeon as usual. James took the table with Blaise and Draco, however the three didn't notice. Once Snape had turned his back on them to write up the ingredients of todays potion on the blackboard, Hermione hastily rifled through the magazine under the desk. At last, in the center pages, Hermione found what they were looking for.

Harry and Ron leaned in closer. A color photograph of Harry headed a short piece entitled:

Harry Potter's Secret Heartache

A boy like no other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger.

Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.

Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."

However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.

"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."

Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.

"I told you!" Ron hissed at Hermione as she stared down at the article. "I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of- of scarlet woman!"

Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. "Scarlet woman?" she repeated, shaking with suppressed giggles as she looked around at Ron.

"It's what my mum calls them," Ron muttered, his ears going red.

"If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch," said Hermione, still giggling, as she threw Witch Weekly onto the empty chair beside her. "What a pile of old rubbish."

She looked over at the Slytherins, who were all watching her and Harry closely across the room to see if they had been upset by the article. Hermione gave them a sarcastic smile and a wave, and she, Harry, and Ron started unpacking the ingredients they would need for their Wit-Sharpening Potion.

"There's something funny, though," said Hermione ten minutes later, holding her pestle suspended over a bowl of scarab beetles. "How could Rita Skeeter have known…?"

"Known what?" said Ron quickly. "You haven't been mixing up Love Potions, have you?"

"Don't be stupid," Hermione snapped, starting to pound up her beetles again. "No, it's just… how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?"

Hermione blushed scarlet as she said this and determinedly avoided Ron's eyes.

"What?" said Ron, dropping his pestle with a loud clunk.

"He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake," Hermione muttered. "After he'd got rid of his shark's head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to -"

"And what did you say?" said Ron, who had picked up his pestle and was grinding it on the desk, a good six inches from his bowl, because he was looking at Hermione.

"And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else," Hermione went on, going so red now that Harry could almost feel the heat coming from her, "but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him?

She wasn't there… or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task…"

"And what did you say?" Ron repeated, pounding his pestle down so hard that it dented the desk.

"Well, I was too busy seeing whether you and Harry were okay to-"

"Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is Miss Granger," said an icy voice right behind them, and all three of them jumped, "I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Snape had glided over to their desk while they were talking. The whole class was now looking around at them; Parkinson took the opportunity to flash POTTER STINKS across the dungeon at Harry.

"Ah… reading magazines under the table as well?" Snape added, snatching up the copy of Witch Weekly. "A further ten points from Gryffindor… oh but of course…" Snapes black eyes glittered as they fell on Rita Skeeter's article. "Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings…"

The dungeon rang with the Slytherins' laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape's thin mouth. To Harry's fury, he began to read the article aloud.

"'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache… dear, dear. Potter, what's ailing you now? 'A boy like no other, perhaps…'"

Harry could feel his face burning. Snape was pausing at the end of every sentence to allow the Slytherins a hearty laugh. The article sounded ten times worse when read by Snape. Even Hermione was blushing scarlet now.

"'… Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate.' How very touching," sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Slytherins. "Well, I think I had better separate the three of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than on your tangled love lives. Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger, over there, beside Miss Parkinson. Potter - that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."

Furious, Harry threw his ingredients and his bag into his cauldron and dragged it up to the front of the dungeon to the empty table. Snape followed, sat down at his desk and watched Harry unload his cauldron. Determined not to look at Snape, Harry resumed the mashing of his scarab beetles, imagining each one to have Snape's face.

"All this press attention seems to have inflated your already over-large head Potter," said Snape quietly, once the rest of the class had settled down again.

Harry didn't answer. He knew Snape was trying to provoke him; he had done this before. No doubt he was hoping for an excuse to take a round fifty points from Gryffindor before the end of the class.

"You might be laboring under the delusion that the entire wizarding world is impressed with you," Snape went on, so quietly that no one else could hear him (Harry continued to pound his scarab beetles, even though he had already reduced them to a very fine powder), "but I don't care how many times your picture appears in the papers. To me Potter, you are nothing but a nasty little boy who considers rules to be beneath him."

Harry tipped the powdered beetles into his cauldron and started cutting up his ginger roots. His hands were shaking slightly out of anger, but he kept his eyes down, as though he couldn't hear what Snape was saying to him.

"So I give you fair warning, Potter," Snape continued in a sorter and more dangerous voice, "pint-sized celebrity or not - if I catch you breaking into my office one more time -"

"I haven't been anywhere near your office!" said Harry angrily, forgetting his feigned deafness.

"Don't lie to me," Snape hissed, his fathomless black eyes boring into Harrys. "Boomslang skin. Gillyweed. Both come from my private stores, and I know who stole them."

Harry stared back at Snape, determined not to blink or to look guilty. In truth, he hadn't stolen either of these things from Snape. Hermione had taken the boomslang skin back in their second year - they had needed it for the Polyjuice Potion - and while Snape had suspected Harry at the time, he had never been able to prove it. Dobby, of course, had stolen the gillyweed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry lied coldly.

"You were out of bed on the night my office was broken into!" Snape hissed. "I know it Potter! Now, Mad-Eye Moody might have joined your fan club, but I will not tolerate your behavior! One more nighttime stroll into my office, Potter, and you will pay!"

"Right," said Harry coolly, turning back to his ginger roots. "I'll bear that in mind if I ever get the urge to go in there."

Snape's eyes flashed. He plunged a hand into the inside of his black robes. For one wild moment. Harry thought Snape was about to pull out his wand and curse him - then he saw that Snape had drawn out a small crystal bottle of a completely clear potion. Harry stared at it.

"Do you know what this is Potter?" Snape said, his eyes glittering dangerously again.

"No," said Harry, with complete honesty this time.

"It is Veritaserum a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear," said Snape viciously. "Now, the use of this potion is controlled by very strict Ministry guidelines. But unless you watch your step, you might just find that my hand slips" - he shook the crystal bottle slightly - "right over your evening pumpkin juice. And then Potter… then we'll find out whether you've been in my office or not."

Harry said nothing. He turned back to his ginger roots once more, picked up his knife, and started slicing them again. He didn't like the sound of that Truth Potion at all, nor would he put it past Snape to slip him some. He repressed a shudder at the thought of what might come spilling out of his mouth if Snape did it… quite apart from landing a whole lot of people in trouble - Hermione and Dobby for a start - there were all the other things he was concealing… He tipped his ginger roots into the cauldron too, and wondered whether he ought to take a leaf out of Moody s book and start drinking only from a private hip flask.

There was a knock on the dungeon door.

"Enter," said Snape in his usual voice.

The class looked around as the door opened. Professor Karkaroff came in. Everyone watched him as he walked up toward Snape's desk. He was twisting his finger around his goatee and looking agitated.

"We need to talk," said Karkaroff abruptly when he had reached Snape. He seemed so determined that nobody should hear what he was saying that he was barely opening his lips; it was as though he were a rather poor ventriloquist. Harry kept his eyes on his ginger roots, listening hard.

"I'll talk to you after my lesson, Karkaroff," Snape muttered, but Karkaroff interrupted him.

"I want to talk now, while you can't slip off, Severus. You've been avoiding me."

"After the lesson," Snape snapped.

Under the pretext of holding up a measuring cup to see if he'd poured out enough armadillo bile, Harry sneaked a sidelong glance at the pair of them. Karkaroff looked extremely worried, and Snape looked angry.

Karkaroff hovered behind Snape's desk for the rest of the double period. He seemed intent on preventing Snape from slipping away at the end of class. Keen to hear what Karkaroff wanted to say, Harry deliberately knocked over his bottle of armadillo bile with two minutes to go to the bell, which gave him an excuse to duck down behind his cauldron and mop up while the rest of the class moved noisily toward the door.

"What's so urgent?" he heard Snape hiss at Karkaroff.

"This," said Karkaroff, and Harry, peering around the edge of his cauldron, saw Karkaroff pull up the left-hand sleeve of his robe and show Snape something on his inner forearm.

"Well?" said Karkaroff, still making every effort not to move his lips. "Do you see? It's never been this clear, never since -"

"Put it away!" snarled Snape, his black eyes sweeping the classroom.

"But you must have noticed -" Karkaroff began in an agitated voice.

"We can talk later, Karkaroff!" spat Snape. "Potter! What are you doing?"

"Clearing up my armadillo bile, Professor," said Harry innocently, straightening up and showing Snape the sodden rag he was holding. James was sitting next to his foot in her fox form, her sleek black coat and navy eyes glittered with intelligence before she dove into Harry's bag so she wouldn't be caught.

Karkaroff turned on his heel and strode out of the dungeon. He looked both worried and angry. Not wanting to remain alone with an exceptionally angry Snape, Harry threw his books and ingredients back into his bag and left at top speed to tell Ron and Hermione what he and James had just witnessed. Looking into his bag he noticed his cousin wasn't there anymore, he spared a glance around but didn't see her.

James walking in her fox form she moved with a unnatural grace on the rafters above everything before easily jumping down on to a chandelier and then the ground. Her form had grown larger, longer, with her age, the light blue tip of her tail made her out to be an animagus or a magical kneazle/fox breed. Sneeking off she headed to go find Luna, her little Ravenclaw friend, she found her in the tree by the lake. Climbing up into the young blonde's lap she purred/growled in content when Luna scratched her ears and back.

"Hello Sly. How are you?" Luna asked and James rolled her eyes growling in annoyance.

"Stressed are you? You poor thing." Luna said with a comforting smile.

"You don't seem yourself though." Luna added and then James froze her eyes wide. Moody limping around the corridors late at night, flask, missing boomslang skin…Her eyes widened and she raced off as fast as her little black legs could take her. She needed to get to Dumbledore.

Running wasn't a good idea because going into the crowd of students she was spotted easily, she didn't care though until she was dodging the Imposter's curses. She was almost there she knew, however she then remembered that she would have to say the password to get in so she dodged to the side racing off once more to find someone else when she was hit with a stunner, she body still flying with her run as it crashed into the wall. She laid motionless and Hermione who saw this was in shock, had James just been killed? Was she hurt? She watched as Moody limped forward and picked James up by the scruff of her neck.

"Nothing to see here folks just some wild life from the forest coming in to say hello." Moody said and the students smiled lightly yet looked at the poor thing in his hands as he limped off towards the forest. James woke up to see Moody's face in her own.

"You're just like every Black I've ever met, Clever, Attractive, and deadly when angered. However you're more like that damn mother than people give you credit for. You're motherly instincts, you're compassion, and you're trustworthiness, you get all that from your Mudblood mother." Moody sneered and James spat at him when she couldn't speak or scream at him. Moody back handed her and she laid sprawled on the forest floor before being lifted by her neck and slammed into a tree the bark digging into her skin. James glared at him, she knew he couldn't kill her now, he needed her to be quite on this however.

"You did a good job Black, too bad all you're going to remember is what you did yesterday." Moody said with a sinister grin.

"Obliviate." Moody sneered and James felt as her mind fought against him only for her memories of the day to be chipped away like film being burned before her eyes. With her last thought before she blacked out being, "How did he know that I knew?"

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So yeah…poor James.

Well…KrisxCross out!~


	23. Chapter 23

XD, I have issues Mira? That hurts like majorly lol. So yeah some shit just hit the fan, but James isn't going to take it lying down.

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James woke groggily, a large blurry shape was standing above her but one was close, and was that a tongue? She jolted up and then groaned as the world shifted colors right before her eyes and she fell back to the mossy Earth. Her navy eyes focused to see Hagrid looking down on her with a worried expression, she smiled slightly.

"Did I drown or something?" She asked her mind was focused on what she could remember the, second task. Looking around she was confused, wasn't the task at the lake? Then she remembered more, she had been in Fred's arms and she had slept in them and that was all she could remember.

"James?" Hagrid asked in confusion that matched the look on her face. Looking around she grasped her head, a pain throbbing throughout her mind.

"Hagrid, what's going on? Why am I here?" She asked going to stand but falling back until Hagrid grabbed her arm and lifted her up into his arms.

"I don't' want to go to the nurse." James said and Hagrid nodded his head, patting her hair comfortingly as he carried her to his hut and laid her on his bed. He went about making tea as James and Fang got to talking.

"Smelt Moody all over you. Fox scent as well." Fang told her and James felt a pain in her head but it wasn't being very forth coming.

"Head hurst, Remember only sleep in Fred's arms." James said and Fang barked sharply in anger in return.

"Obliviate? But what would you know that would cause him to use that one you? A reaction?" Fang theorized but James shook her head.

"He'd have took me to the nurse if it was an accident, I'm a loose end that he couldn't get rid of." James told him and the face of Snape slapped her in the face quickly. She jumped up quickly and she shook her head quickly her face pulled into a frown.

"Snape. Something Snape said…" She hissed but then a pair of dreamy blue eyes seemed to come to her and she sat back down holding her head.

"Snape and Luna said something and I found out something he didn't want me to know." James hissed at Fang who was growling in thought.

"Then let's go ask them, I'll smell him before he gets near you." Fang said getting up but James shook her head.

"I have to do this the Slytherin way Fang. He found out that I knew last time and I don't think I went out and said that I knew it to his face." James said but Fang stayed close to her.

"Not letting you out of my sight pup!" He argued and she shrugged but made her way towards the Great Hall, Fang flanking her on her right side. Walking into the Hall she made her way towards the Gryffindor table and sat next to Fred who touched her shoulder with a worried look on his face. She tilted her head at him but then she saw the tear streaked face of Hermione looking at her like she was a ghost.

"What?" James asked and Hermione reached out and grabbed her hand whispering that she was here and okay.

Fang growled lowly under the table.

"What happened that we are missing?" He asked and James quickly asked that of Hermione.

"You came bolting into the room and raced off towards something and Moody came chasing after you firing off curses left and right, and then he hit you with a stunner and you crashed into the wall hard. I thought you were dead." Hermione cried holding her hand, she was hissing it out so no one would hear what she was saying but James just blinked.

"He didn't want me to tell what I found out…"She hissed to herself.

"Find out what?" Fred asked her but James shook her head.

"Don't know, he Obliviated me. I don't even know what the fuck I did today." She said and she watched as the Twins growled, Hermione gasped, Harry stopped eating, and Ron dropped his chicken leg on the floor.

"He Obliviated you?" Fred asked with a dangerous aura around him.

"Yeah, I'm getting pieces however but I'm going to have to be careful. He found out I knew once, I have to make sure he doesn't have a reason that I would know what he doesn't want me to know what I did know but now will find out." James said and then she sighed at everyone's blank looks besides the nodding Hermione.

"I have to be very Slytherin about this." She said and then the boys "Ohhhed" and she and Hermione shared a look that screamed idiots. They all made to leave after dinner when Krum walked over and asked Harry for a word alone with him. James bit her lip and looked at Fang who shook his head.

"No." Fang barked at her and she sighed and scratched his ears as they continued walking with the group. Entering the common room James went and sat on Fred who had sat on the love seat. Fang coming to laze with them, George and Hermione shared a grin while Ron wrinkled his nose at the scene.

"Awww aren't you two just cozy wozy." George and Hermione cooed and James smirked at them.

"You know that's how me and Fred started out right? Talking in unison." James cooed right back sending Fred in to laughter, George and Hermione into disgust, and Ron into jealousy.

"Oh shut up." Hermione snapped at them but she had a grin on her face as she said it. They laid their talking when a shocked and pale Harry came into the room. He ran over to them and began to tell them about what happened with Crouch, Hagrid's broken heart, and Krum's attack.

"It comes down to this," said Hermione, rubbing her forehead. "Either Mr. Crouch attacked Viktor, or somebody else attacked both of them when Viktor wasn't looking."

"It must've been Crouch," said Ron at once. "That's why he was gone when Harry and Dumbledore got there. He'd done a runner."

"I don't think so," said Harry, shaking his head. "He seemed really weak - I don't reckon he was up to Disapparating or anything."

"You can't Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds, haven't I told you enough times?" said James.

"Not quite yet, but a few more and we'll have it down," Ron said and got a smack for his comment.

"Okay… how's this for a theory," said Ron excitedly. "Krum attacked Crouch - no, wait for it - and then Stunned himself!"

"And Mr. Crouch evaporated, did he?" said Hermione coldly.

"Oh yeah…"

It was daybreak. The Twins, James, Harry, Hermione, and Ron stayed up all night. Harry, Hermione, and Ron, all three of them were puffy-eyed and pale because they had been talking late into the night about Mr. Crouch. The twins and James seemed fine for the most part leading them to believe that they had spent a lot of nights awake. The twins and James waved them off as they went walking only to end up in the owlry.

"Just go through it again, Harry," said Hermione. "What did Mr. Crouch actually say?"

"I've told you, he wasn't making much sense," said Harry. "He said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault… He mentioned his son."

"He was out of his mind," said Harry. "Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions."

"And… remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?" said Ron tentatively.

"I've told you," Harry repeated dully. "He said he's getting stronger."

There was a pause. Then Ron said in a falsely confident voice, "But he was out of his mind, like you said, so half of it was probably just raving…"

"He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort," said Harry, and Ron winced at the sound of the name. "He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to see Dumbledore."

Harry turned away from the window and stared up into the rafters. The many perches were half-empty; every now and then, another owl would swoop in through one of the windows, returning from its night's hunting with a mouse in its beak.

"If Snape hadn't held me up," Harry said bitterly, "we might've got there in time. 'The headmaster is busy. Potter… what's this rubbish, Potter?' Why couldn't he have just got out of the way?"

"Maybe he didn't want you to get there!" said Ron quickly. "Maybe - hang on - how fast d'you reckon he could've gotten down to the forest? D'you reckon he could've beaten you and Dumbledore there?"

"Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something," said Harry.

"Wouldn't put it past him," Ron muttered.

"We need to see Professor Moody," said Hermione. "We need to find out whether he found Mr. Crouch."

"If he had the Marauder's Map on him, it would've been easy," said Harry.

"Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds," said Ron, "because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn't -"

"Shh!" said Hermione suddenly.

Somebody was climbing the steps up to the Owlery. Harry could hear three voices arguing, coming closer and closer.

"- that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that-"

"- we've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did -"

"I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!"

"Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?"

The Owlery door banged open. James, Fred, and George came over the threshold, then froze at the sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"What're you doing here?" Ron and Fred said at the same time.

"Sending a letter," said Harry and George in unison.

"What, at this time?" said Hermione and James.

Fred grinned.

"Fine - we won't ask you what you're doing, if you don't ask us," he said. He was holding a sealed envelope in his hands. Harry glanced at it, but Fred, whether accidentally or on purpose, shifted his hand so that the name on it was covered.

"Well, don't let us hold you up," Fred said, making a mock bow and pointing at the door.

Ron didn't move. "Who're you blackmailing?" he said.

The grin vanished from Fred's face. Harry saw George half glance at Fred, before smiling at Ron.

"Don't be stupid, I was only joking," he said easily.

"Didn't sound like that," said Ron.

Fred and George looked at each other. Then James said abruptly, "I've told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can't see why you would, but -"

"It's my business if you're blackmailing someone," said Ron. "George's right, you could end up in serious trouble for that."

"Told you, I was joking," said George. He walked over to Fred, pulled the letter out of his hands, and began attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl. "You're starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you'll be made a prefect."

"No, I won't!" said Ron hotly.

George carried the barn owl over to the window and it took off. George turned around and grinned at Ron.

"Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later."

He, James, and Fred left the Owlery. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at one another.

"You don't think they know something about all this, do you?" Hermione whispered. "About Crouch and everything?"

"No," said Harry. "If it was something that serious, they'd tell someone. They'd tell Dumbledore."

Ron, however, was looking uncomfortable.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked him.

"Well…" said Ron slowly, "I dunno if they would. They're… they're obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them - when - you know -"

"We weren't talking." Harry finished the sentence for him. "Yeah, but blackmail…"

"It's this joke shop idea they've got," said Ron. "I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They've only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it's time to think about their future, and Dad can't help them, and they need gold to get started. James has said that she'd help but they put their foot down

"That doesn't mean that they would hold any information that had the potential to be dangerous."

Hermione was looking uncomfortable now.

"Yes, but… they wouldn't do anything against the law to get gold."

"Wouldn't they?" said Ron, looking skeptical. "I dunno… they don't exactly mind breaking rules, do they?"

"Yes, but this is the law" said Hermione, looking scared.

"Says the only person that I know of that had broken the law so far," Ron said.

"That was to save Sirius' life, it wasn't to make money and Harry did it too, James is an animangus to!" Hermione huffed.

"Whatever."

"This isn't some silly school rule… They'll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron… maybe you'd better tell Percy…"

"Are you mad?" said Ron. "Tell Percy? He'd probably do a Crouch and turn them in."

He stared at the window through which Fred and George's owl had departed, then said, "Come on, let's get some breakfast."

"D'you think it's too early to go and see Professor Moody?" Hermione said as they went down the spiral staircase.

"Yes," said Harry. "He'd probably blast us through the door if we wake him at the crack of dawn; he'll think we're trying to attack him while he's asleep. Let's give it till break."

History of Magic had rarely gone so slowly. Harry kept checking Ron's watch, having finally discarded his own, but Ron's was moving so slowly he could have sworn it had stopped working too. All three of them were so tired they could happily have put their heads down on the desks and slept; even Hermione wasn't taking her usual notes, but was sitting with her head on her hand, gazing at Professor Binns with her eyes out of focus.

James was sleeping and not bothering to hide it, her eyes close. When the bell finally rang, they hurried out into the corridors toward the Dark Arts classroom and found Professor Moody leaving it. He looked as tired as they felt. The eyelid of his normal eye was drooping, giving his face an even more lopsided appearance than usual.

"Professor Moody?" Harry called as they made their way toward him through the crowd.

"Hello, Potter," growled Moody. His magical eye followed a couple of passing first years, who sped up, looking nervous; it rolled into the back of Moody's head and watched them around the corner before he spoke again.

"Come in here."

He stood back to let them into his empty classroom, limped in after them, and closed the door. James was using every trick to not go running from there, keeping her body nice and relaxed and not

"Did you find him?" Harry asked without preamble. "Mr. Crouch?"

"No," said Moody. He moved over to his desk, sat down, stretched out his wooden leg with a slight groan, and pulled out his hip flask. James bit back the "Did you try?" that was on her tongue.

"Did you use the map?" Harry said. James snarled in her mind, how dare he give the map to him.

"Of course," said Moody, taking a swig from his flask. "Took a leaf out of your book, Potter. Summoned it from my office into the forest. He wasn't anywhere on there."

"So he did Disapparate?" said Ron.

"You can't Disapparate on the grounds, Ron!" said Hermione. "There are other ways he could have disappeared, aren't there, Professor?"

Moody's magical eye quivered as it rested on Hermione. "You're another one who might think about a career as an Auror," he told her. "Mind works the right way Granger."

Hermione flushed pink with pleasure.

"Well, he wasn't invisible," said Harry. "The map shows invisible people. He must've left the grounds, then."

"But under his own steam?" said Hermione eagerly, "or because someone made him?"

"Yeah, someone could've - could've pulled him onto a broom and flown off with him, couldn't they?" said Ron quickly, looking hopefully at Moody as if he too wanted to be told he had the makings of an Auror.

"We can't rule out kidnap," growled Moody.

"So," said Ron, "d'you reckon he's somewhere in Hogsmeade?"

"Could be anywhere," said Moody, shaking his head. "Only thing we know for sure is that he's not here."

He yawned widely, so that his scars stretched, and his lopsided mouth revealed a number of missing teeth. Then he said, "Now, Dumbledore's told me you four fancy yourselves as investigators, but there's nothing you can do for Crouch. The Ministry'll be looking for him now, Dumbledore's notified them. Potter, Black, you just keep your mind on the third task."

"What?" said Harry. "Oh yeah…"

He hadn't given the maze a single thought since he'd left it with Krum the previous night.

"Should be right up your street, this one," said Moody, looking up at Harry and scratching his scarred and stubbly chin. "From what Dumbledore's said, you've managed to get through stuff like this plenty of times. Broke your way through a series of obstacles guarding the Philosopher's Stone in your first year, didn't you?"

"We helped," Ron said quickly. "Me and Hermione helped."

Moody grinned.

"Well, help him practice for this one, and I'll be very surprised if he doesn't win," said Moody. "In the meantime… constant vigilance, Potter. Constant vigilance."

He took another long draw from his hip flask, and his magical eye swiveled onto the window. The topmost sail of the Durmstrang ship was visible through it. He seemed to be ignoring James as much as he could but James wasn't about to call him out on it.

"You two," counseled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and Hermione, "you stick close to Potter, all right? I'm keeping an eye on things, but all the same… you can never have too many eyes out."

"Right." James said and Moody turned and they caught each other's eyes. "You can never have to many eyes out. Moody."

"Right. Black is right, you should listen to her." Moody said but James was fast in her perception.

"So you wouldn't mind me taking back the Map then?" James asked and she watched Moody stiffen slightly and forced a smile on his face.

"Not at all." He replied with a growl through his teeth and handed over the map that James snatched back. They glanced at each other before James spun on her heel and left with the others that watched her walk on a smirk coming to her face.

"He doesn't know who he's messing with." James said with a smirk and the others shook their heads, James was scary when she was in one of her moods.

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Yeah, I have issues…shut up Bre…Mira…=P

KrisxCross out!~


	24. Chapter 24

Is it me or has Fanfiction been upgrading itself a lot lately? Lol, well anyways I've been pretty busy but I guess I can do one chapter for you all and see if you don't absolutely hate my writing yet.

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James however was at a loss of what to do, so she went to the library to look up something that would tell you if you were "discovered" in "danger" or someone "knows something you don't want them too." She hadn't found anything at first until she went to Madam Pince, the librarian who gave her a book on a device called Foe glass, it was a mirror that worked like a crystal ball for a real seer, so you could see a "foe" of any kind. She frowned and then she went to Luna to figure out what she had said that might have triggered something for her to know something.

She found Luna up a tree by the lake, she felt a bit of déjà vu at the sight as she climbed up to sit next to her.

"Did you tell me something the last time we spoke, anything that caused me to blank or something?" She asked Luna who put a finger to her mouth in thought before nodding her head.

"You froze before running off as fast as you could after I told you ," You don't seem yourself though." It was like you had a large nargle infestation." Luna said in her dreamy voice and James's eyes narrowed at the thought. Then she knew that it was Snape that had said what she needed, Luna only told her so much. Leaving Luna to her Seekling watching, it's a large blue bird with a very shiny metallic underbelly and dark scarlet red beaks, they can cure dragon pox you know…Oh Luna, James thought fondly as she left. The third task was coming up and James needed to be prepared for the maze.

"Oi Harry!" James called and Harry turned from talking Ron to look over.

"Hello, James." Harry said and James and Ron exchanged nods.

"Hey, so umm did Snape say anything that one day?" James asked and Harry tilted his head in thought.

"Well he accused me of stealing boomslang skin and gillyweed." Harry said thoughtfully and James eyes brightened but she kept her mind clear. She knew now, but that didn't mean she didn't know, which in fact meant that she knew nothing.

"Hey you know that watch I gave you for Christmas, you know that one?" James asked him with a look and Harry nodded his head.

"Wear it during the final task, I have a bad feeling." James said and Harry frowned but nodded. James left him there and going upstairs she took out a trench coat made from dragon hide. She nodded her head and got to work, ripping the inner coating of the off. Lavender and Parvati watching her in shock and confusion as she set a large amount of metal on the coat and with a flip of her wrist it was molded to her coat and extremely flexible. Biting her thumb she let it drip into an ink pot before she set about writing runes all across the surface.

"What are you doing?" Lavender asked from over her shoulder.

"Writing protective runes into the metal and attaching it to my jacket that is dragon hide and basically spell resilient already, to protect myself further. Hey do you want a bracelet?" James asked Lavender who blinked before nodding. James got up and grabbed the portkey bracelet out of her jewelry box in her trunk and handed it to Lavender who admired it.

"Oh don't pull this bead here, you see the bracelet is extremely fragile and that could snap it. You understand?" James asked her as she went back to work, this time Hermione coming to watch her work.

"That's powerful magic you're infusing into that jacket." Hermione said as she gazed down at it, not daring to touch it.

"It better be. I have a horrible feeling for the last task." James told her with a frown of concentration on her face.

"Why, what do you think will happen?" Hermione asked and James smiled sadly.

"Death…it's making me feel crazy. My inner-fox has its fight or flight instinct running on rerun and its going flight." James told Hermione who nodded understandingly.

"Mine too but you can't really think that it's death?" Hermione asked but she watched James as she began to sue the inner material back to the jacket magically, her face completely serious.

"My god." Hermione whispered. "You'll be careful won't you?"

Hermione had grabbed James's shoulder, the younger girl turning and giving her a grin.

"Of course Hermy. Why would I do that to that jacket if I wasn't being careful. Do you have a hand mirror?" James asked distractedly as she broke from Hermione's grasp to grab a red tank top and dropping it into some type of sludge in a bucket, along with black skinny jeans. She stirred the two items in the sludge and then put it in to the girl's dormitory fireplace.

"You are doing a lot of careful things aren't you James?" Hermione asked eyeing the potion that was slowly clearing into what looked like water, she wouldn't drink it however remember the bloody sludge like stuff it had been.

"Somewhere in my trunk, hold on." Hermione said as she dropped to her knees and unclasped her trunk and looked through it before taking out a small hand mirror.

"Do you mind me keeping it?" James asked and Hermione shook her head, it was a cheap mirror anyway.

"Thanks." James said before she wrote the rune for endless with her blood that still came from her thumb, however it was slowly clotting. She slipped it absentmindedly into her jacket's from left pocket and then she went and drained her bucket of clear solution and had her clothes drying in the shower stall.

"Why not dry it magically?" Hermione asked and James shook her head.

"That'd be counteractive to what I want." James said as she dug out her dragon hide combat boots that buckled all the way up to her thighs when she wore them. She cleaned them before she added a few runes for speed and strength into them. She left her clothes there before she smiled and then glancing over to Hermione.

"Um, I'm going to sleep over with Fred tonight. You know just calm me for tomorrow." James said with a shy smile.

"I'll put your clothes on your bed when they dry." Hermione said and James nodded grinning at her. James left then. She found him in his dorm with George and Lee talking.

"You scared for James tomorrow?" Lee asked Fred and Fred smiled slightly.

"A bit but I'm pretty sure James got this whole thing in the bag." Fred said and George snorted.

"Oh ye of too much faith." George said with a smirk.

"I agree with Fred, you're spending too time with Nearly Headless Nick." James said, wrapping her arms around Fred, leaning her head into the crook of his neck kissing it lightly before looking over at the other boys. All of them had jumped when she spoke up and now were glaring at her slightly.

"Bought gave me a heart attack." Lee snapped at her and George agreed.

"My heart almost came out of my chest James." George said.

"She was behind me and in both of your line of vision." Fred pointed out dryly and they rubbed the back of their heads sheepishly.

"Mhmmm." James hummed nuzzling into Fred's shoulder. She had used a lot of her magic with those ruins in her clothes and gear.

"Tired babe?" Fred asked turning to look at her only for James to plop into his lap half asleep.

"Wonder what she did to cause her to be that damn tired." Lee said and the other two nodded. Fred lifting her up into his arms and laying her out on his bed.

"At least she ate dinner already." George said and Fred nodded his head.

"Well I'm going to bed." Lee said and the twins smirked at him.

"G'night Lee." The twins told him in unison, James smiling faintly in her sleep hearing the tandem words.

"No fondling!" George said with a megawatt grin before going to his own bed.

"Oi!" Fred said with a matching grin before joining his girlfriend in his bed, pulling the curtain's around them he took off her shoe and her sweater and jeans. Leaving her sleeping in her undershirt and boy short underwear and socks, he grinned at the image before pulling her close into an embrace under the covers.

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So that was my frist chapter…how'd you guys like it?

Hisagi-Tan out~


	25. Chapter 25

My second chapter…hope you guys don't hate me lol.

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James woke up feeling content and warm, she blinked drowsily before gazing up from her boyfriend's chest. She grinned slightly feeling his morning wood press into her thigh. She moved down so she was straddling his calves and slid his boxers down releasing his hard prick into the slightly chilly air. She smiled slightly at his sleepy hiss in his sleep. Moving down she licked at the head, getting a soft moan from him. She took more into her mouth, her teeth grazing his dick as she sucked on him. She didn't have to wait long either, his hands coming to grasp her hair, his grunt as he released, and the cum sliding down her throat as she swallowed. She licked the cum off her finger that she got from her chin. She gasped as he grabbed her into a quick indulging kiss. They pulled back, saliva connecting them before it broke landing on her chin.

"You're going to be the death of me." Fred told her seriously and James smiled at him, nuzzling his neck. He flipped her over so he was on top of her. Kissing her forehead, her nose, and then her lips tenderly she signed in content. Her eyes fluttering closed as he licked and bit at her neck slowly, calmly, and thoroughly.

"Tease." James told him and he smiled at her and slid her tank off while unclasping her bra. He traced her chest as she mewled quietly at the feeling of his hands on her.

"I love you." Fred told her caressing her cheek softly before he sucked on the sides of her breasts, tracing the curve of them softly.

"Love you too..mmmm." James breathed out into a low moan. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he shoved his boxers off followed by her panties. He was slow as he worshiped her body, slowly, lovingly, and even innocently. James was red face with glassy navy eyes, her hair fanned out around her as she panted softly. He reached over and grabbed his wand casting a charm on her before he slid into her tight entrance. She winced softly while he groaned, holding still for her.

"Love you so much." Fred told her as he kissed her cheeks, his hands coming up and wiping her tears from her eyes. She nodded her head at him and kissed his lips softly. He rocked his hips into her softly, his eyes raking her face. Soon he sped his movements but he remained gentle as he sped up thrusting into her, with deep and gentle thrusts. She moaned, withered, and clawed at his back to try and keep her sanity but as it got to a point she couldn't handle it crying out slightly as she bit his shoulder to muffle the half scream, he grunted at the pain and the tightness that her pussy was wrapped around him. They cuddled some before James got dressed and with one more final sweet kiss she ran off to get a shower in the girls dorm and get dressed.

Breakfast was a very noisy affair at the Gryffindor table on the morning of the third task. Hedwig appeared, bringing Harry and James good-luck cards from Sirius and Remus. It was only a piece of parchment, folded over and bearing a muddy paw print on its front, but they appreciated it all the same. A screech owl arrived for Hermione, carrying her morning copy of the Daily Prophet as usual. She unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page, and spat out a mouthful of pumpkin juice all over it.

"What?" said James, Harry, and Ron together, staring at her.

"Nothing," said Hermione quickly, trying to shove the paper out of sight, but Ron grabbed it. He stared at the headline and said, "No way. Not today. That old cow."

"What?" said Harry. "Rita Skeeter again?"

"No," said Ron, and just like Hermione, he attempted to push the paper out of sight.

"You're even less convincing then Mione, Ron." James said with a roll of her eyes, her hand going out and getting a muffin.

"It's about me, isn't it?" said Harry.

"No," said Ron, in an entirely unconvincing tone. But before Harry could demand to see the paper Pansy Parkinson shouted across the Great Hall from the Slytherin table.

"Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"

Parkinson was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet too. Slytherins up and down the table were sniggering, twisting in their seats to see Harry's reaction. Draco, Blaise, Theodore, Tracey, and the Greengrass sister were just rolling their eyes at their childishness.

"Let me see it," Harry said to Ron. "Give it here."

Very reluctantly, Ron handed over the newspaper. Harry turned it over and found himself staring at his own picture, beneath the banner headline:

'HARRY POTTER DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS'

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" James snarled seeing it over his shoulder.

The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School.

Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying.

It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potters brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You- Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion.

"Well he was affected by the attack on him, but it didn't cause him to be unstable," Hermione muttered darkly.

"He might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention."

"Like I need anymore attention," Harry laughed.

The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public.

"Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Pansy Parkinson,a Hogwarts fourth year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power."

Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art.

Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defense League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue "as worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic, and are historically associated with evildoers." Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence."

Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening.

"Gone off me a bit, hasn't she?" said Harry lightly, folding up the paper.

Over at the Slytherin table, Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle were laughing at him, tapping their heads with their fingers, pulling grotesquely mad faces, and waggling their tongues like snakes.

"How did she know your scar hurt in Divination?" Ron said. "There's no way she was there, there's no way she could've heard -"

"The window was open," said Harry. "I opened it to breathe."

"You were at the top of North Tower!" Hermione said. "Your voice couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds!"

"Well, you're the one who's supposed to be researching magical methods of bugging!" said Harry. "You tell me how she did it!"

"I've been trying!" said Hermione. "But I… but…"

"Oh this is just perfect…" said James.

An odd, dreamy expression suddenly came over their faces. Hermione slowly raised a hand and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Are you all right?" said Ron, frowning at her.

"Yes," said Hermione breathlessly. She ran her fingers through her hair again, and then held her hand up to her mouth, as though speaking into an invisible walkie-talkie. Harry and Ron stared at each other.

"I've had an idea," Hermione said, gazing into space. "I think I know… because then no one would be able to see… even Moody… and she'd have been able to get onto the window ledge… but she's not allowed… she's definitely not allowed… I think we've got her! Just give me two seconds in the library - just to make sure!"

With that, Hermione seized her school bag and dashed out of the Great Hall.

"Oy!" Ron called after her. "We've got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes! Blimey," he said, turning back to Harry, "she must really hate that Skeeter woman to risk missing the start of an exam. What're you going to do in Binns's class – read again?"

Exempt from the end-of-term tests as a Triwizard champion, James and Harry had been sitting in the back of every exam class so far, looking up fresh hexes for the third task.

"S'pose so," Harry said to Ron; but just then. Professor McGonagall came walking alongside the Gryffindor table toward him.

"Potter, Black, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she said.

"But the task's not till tonight!" said Harry, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down his front, afraid he had mistaken the time.

"I'm aware of that, Potter," she said. "The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them." She moved away. Harry gaped after her.

"You think Sirius and Remus are here?" he asked Ron blankly.

"Dunno," said Ron. "Harry, I'd better hurry, I'm going to be late for Binns. See you later."

James and Harry finished thier breakfast in the emptying Great Hall. James saw Fleur Delacour get up from the Ravenclaw table and join Krum as he crossed to the side chamber and entered.

They walked across the Hall and opened the door into the chamber. Viktor Krum was over in a corner, conversing with his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. He had inherited his fathers hooked nose. On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand. She waved at Harry, who waved back, grinning.

Sirius and Remus stood conversing to the side both of them turned and James raced forward grasping Sirius around the middle with Harry. They both almost caused the man to tumble down, his bark like laughter ringing in the air

"Surprise!" Sirius said excitedly as he smiled broadly at them. "Thought we'd come and watch you. James! Harry!" He bent down and hugged them tightly.

"You two alright?" Remus asked with a smile only to laugh as the two moved hugging him just as tightly as they hugged Sirius.

"Oh ignoring us are you? I see how it is…" Bill Weasley said and they glanced over, Harry shaking his hand and James getting a spinning hug. They both gave Mrs. Weasley a hug as well with twin grins as she kissed their cheeks.

"Never." James told him with a grin and Harry nodded firmly.

Fleur Delacour, James noticed, was eyeing Bill with great interest over her mother's shoulder. James could tell she had no objection whatsoever to long hair or earrings with fangs on them.

"This is really nice of you," Harry muttered to Mrs. Weasley.

"Definitely… what'd you bribe him with?" James asked nodding to her father that shot her a mock wounded look.

"That hurts Jay baby, right here." Sirius said holding his heart before collapsing into Remus's arms in very Drama queen way.

"Drama Queen." James sniffed at him and Sirius grabbed her, spinning her around carefully before kissing the top of her head.

"Hmm," said Mrs. Weasley, pursing her lips.

"It's great being back here," said Bill, looking around the chamber (Violet, the Fat Lady's friend, winked at him from her frame). "Haven't seen this place for five years. Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?"

"Oh yeah," said Harry, who had met Sir Cadogan the previous year.

"And the Fat Lady?" said Bill.

"She was here in my time," said Mrs. Weasley. "She gave me such a telling off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning -"

"What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?" said Bill, surveying his mother with amazement.

"Maybe we don't want to know…" James said and the males all smirked slightly.

Mrs. Weasley grinned, her eyes twinkling.

"Your father and I had been for a nighttime stroll," she said. "He got caught by Apollyon Pringle - he was the caretaker in those days - your father's still got the marks."

"Fancy giving us a tour, Harry?" said Bill.

"Yeah, okay," said Harry, and they made their way back toward the door into the Great Hall.

James had a very enjoyable morning walking over the sunny grounds with Sirius, Harry, Remus, Bill and Mrs. Weasley, showing them the Beauxbatons carriage and the Durmstrang ship. Mrs. Weasley was intrigued by the Whomping Willow, which had been planted after she had left school, and reminisced at length about the gamekeeper before Hagrid, a man called Ogg.

"How's Percy?" Harry asked as they walked around the greenhouses.

"Not good," said Bill.

"He's very upset," said Mrs. Weasley, lowering her voice and glancing around. "The Ministry wants to keep Mr. Crouch's disappearance quiet, but Percy's been hauled in for questioning about the instructions Mr. Crouch has been sending in. They seem to think there's a chance they weren't genuinely written by him. Percy's been under a lot of strain. They're not letting him fill in for Mr. Crouch as the fifth judge tonight. Cornelius Fudge is going to be doing it."

They returned to the castle for lunch.

"Mum - Bill!" said Ron, looking stunned, as he joined the Gryffindor table. "What're you doing here?"

"Come to watch Harry in the last task!" said Mrs. Weasley brightly. "I must say, it makes a lovely change, not having to cook. How was your exam?"

"Oh… okay," said Ron. "Couldn't remember all the goblin rebels' names, so I invented a few.

It's all right," he said, helping himself to a Cornish pasty, while Mrs. Weasley looked stern, "they're all called stuff like Bodrod the Bearded and Urg the Unclean; it wasn't hard."

Fred, George, and Ginny came to sit next to them too, and James was having such a good time she felt almost as though she were back at the Burrow; she had forgotten to worry about that evening's task, and not until Hermione turned up, halfway through lunch, did she remember that they had had a brainwave about Rita Skeeter.

"Are you going to tell us -?"

Hermione shook her head warningly and glanced at Mrs. Weasley.

"Hello, Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley, much more stiffly than usual.

"Hello," said Hermione, her smile faltering at the cold expression on Mrs. Weasley's face.

Harry looked between them, then said, "Mrs. Weasley, you didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly, did you? Because Hermione's not my girlfriend."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Weasley "No - of course I didn't!"

But she became considerably warmer toward Hermione after that, much to James's amusment.

James, Sirius, Remus, Harry, Bill, and Mrs. Weasley whiled away the afternoon with a long walk around the castle, and then returned to the Great Hall for the evening feast. Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge had joined the staff table now. Bagman looked quite cheerful, but Cornelius Fudge, who was sitting next to Madame Maxime, looked stern and was not talking. Madame Maxime was concentrating on her plate, and Harry thought her eyes looked red. Hagrid kept glancing along the table at her.

There were more courses than usual, but James, who was starting to feel really nervous now, didn't eat much. As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."

The two cousins got up. The Gryffindors all along the table were applauding them; the Weasleys, Sirius, Remus and Hermione all wished them good luck, and they headed off out of the Great Hall with Fleur and Viktor. James took longer as she slipped Hermione a note and Fred a kiss before running to catch up to the others.

"Feeling all right. Harry?" Bagman asked as they went down the stone steps onto the grounds. "Confident?"

"I'm okay," said Harry. It was sort of true; he was nervous, but he kept running over all the hexes and spells he had been practicing in his mind as they walked, and the knowledge that he could remember them all made him feel better.

"Good."

They walked onto the Quidditch field, which was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of them: the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy.

Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill; the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin vest.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said Professor McGonagall to the champions. "If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"

The champions nodded.

"Off you go, then!" said Bagman brightly to the four patrollers.

"Good luck. Harry, James," Hagrid whispered, and the four of them walked away in different directions, to station themselves around the maze. Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, muttered, "Sonorus," and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with ninty-five points each – Miss James Black and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, with eighty points - Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in third place – Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

James could just make out Sirius, Remus, Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, the twins, and Hermione applauding Fleur politely, halfway up the stands. She waved up at them, and they waved back, beaming at her.

"So… on my whistle, Harry and James!" said Bagman. "Three - two - one -"

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Harry and James hurried forward into the maze.

The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment they entered the maze. James felt almost as though she were underwater again. She pulled out her wand, muttered, "Lumos," and heard Harry do the same just behind her.

After about fifty yards, they reached a fork. They looked at each other.

"See you," Harry said, and he took the left one, while James took the right.

James heard Bagman's whistle for the second time. Krum had entered the maze. James sped up. Her chosen path seemed completely deserted. She turned right, and hurried on, holding her wand high over her head, trying to see as far ahead as possible. Still, there was nothing in sight.

Bagman's whistle blew in the distance for the third time. All of the champions were now inside.

James kept looking behind her. The old feeling that she was being watched was upon her.

The maze was growing darker with every passing minute as the sky overhead deepened to navy. She reached a second fork.

"Point Me," she whispered to her wand, holding it flat in her palm.

The wand spun around once and pointed toward her right, into solid hedge. That way was north, and she knew that she needed to go northwest for the center of the maze. The best she could do was to take the left fork and go right again as soon as possible.

The path ahead was empty too, and when James reached a right turn and took it, she again found his way unblocked.

James didn't know why, but the lack of obstacles was unnerving her. Surely she should have met something by now? It felt as though the maze were luring her into a false sense of security. Then she heard movement right behind her. She held out her wand, ready to attack, but its beam fell only upon Harry, who had just hurried out of a path on the right-hand side.

Harry looked severely shaken. The sleeve of his robe was smoking.

"Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts!" he hissed. "They're enormous - I only just got away!"

She shook her head and dived out of sight, along another path. Keen to put plenty of distance between herself and the skrewts, James hurried off again. Then, as she turned a corner, she saw… a grave yard with fog floating all around. James was starting to make out the twins names and her stomach was dropping but knew what she had to do…

She summoned the happiest thought she could, concentrated with all her might on the thought of seeing her father's proud face, Fred's loving smile, and the cheers of her friends, raised her wand, and cried, "Riddikulus!"

It faded out of existence as if never being there and she smiled grimly, it was a Bogart charm, not even a real Bogart. She raised her arm up high with her wand and continued on.

Left… right… left again… Several times she found herself facing dead ends. She did the Four-Point Spell again and found that she was going too far east. She turned back, took a right turn, and saw an odd golden mist floating ahead of her.

James approached it cautiously, pointing the wand's beam at it. This looked like some kind of enchantment. She wondered whether she might be able to blast it out of the way or walk through it unharmed with her reflecting ruins.

"Reducio!" she cried out.

The spell shot straight through the mist, leaving it intact. She supposed she should have known better; the Reductor Curse was for solid objects. What would happen if she walked through the mist? Was it worth chancing it, or should she double back?

She was still hesitating when a scream shattered the silence.

"Fleur?" James screamed.

There was silence. She stared all around her. What had happened to her? Her scream seemed to have come from somewhere ahead. She took a deep breath and ran through the enchanted mist.

The world turned upside down. James was hanging from the ground, with her pony tail waving in the air, and her coat falling around her face, threatening to fall into the bottomless sky. She clutched the hem of her coat and hung there, terrified. It felt as though her feet were glued to the grass, which had now become the ceiling. Below her the dark, star-spangled heavens stretched endlessly. She felt as though if she tried to move one of her feet, she would fall away from the earth completely.

Think, she roared at herself, as all the blood rushed to her head, think…

But not one of the spells she had practiced or heard of had been designed to combat a sudden reversal of ground and sky. Did she dare move her foot? She could hear the blood pounding in her ears. She had two choices - try and move, or send up red sparks, and get rescued and disqualified from the task.

She shut her eyes, so she wouldn't be able to see the view of endless space below her, and pulled her right foot as hard as she could away from the grassy ceiling.

Immediately, the world righted itself. James fell forward onto her knees onto the wonderfully solid ground. She felt temporarily limp with shock. She took a deep, steadying breath, then got up again and hurried forward, looking back over her shoulder as she ran away from the golden mist, which twinkled innocently at her in the moonlight.

She paused at a junction of two paths and looked around for some sign of Fleur. She was sure it had been she who had screamed. What had she met? Was she all right? There was no sign of red sparks - did that mean she had got herself out of trouble, or was she in such trouble that she couldn't reach her wand? James took the right fork with a feeling of increasing unease… but at the same time, she couldn't help thinking. One champion down…

The cup was somewhere close by, and it sounded as though Fleur was no longer in the running. She'd got this far, hadn't she? What if she actually managed to win? Fleetingly, and for the first time since she'd found herself champion.

She met nothing for ten minutes, but kept running into dead ends. Thrice she took the same wrong turning. Finally, she found a new route and started to jog along it, her wandlight waving, making her shadow flicker and distort on the hedge walls.

Then she rounded another corner and found herself facing a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Harry was right - it was enormous. Ten feet long, it looked more like a giant scorpion than anything. Its long sting was curled over its back. Its thick armor glinted in the light from James's wand, which she pointed at it.

"Stupefy!"

The spell hit the skrewt's armor and rebounded; James ducked just in time, but could smell burning hair; it had singed the top of her head. The skrewt issued a blast of fire from its end and flew forward toward her.

"Impedimenta!" James yelled. The spell hit the skrewt's armor again and ricocheted off; James staggered back a few paces and fell over.

"IMPEDIMENTA!"

The skrewt was inches from her when it froze - she had managed to hit it on its fleshy, shell-less underside. Panting, James pushed herself away from it and ran, hard, in the opposite direction - the Impediment Curse was not permanent; the skrewt would be regaining the use of its legs at any moment.

She took a left path and hit a dead end, a right, and hit another; forcing herself to stop, heart hammering, she performed the Four-Point Spell again, backtracked, and chose a path that would take her northwest.

She had been hurrying along the new path for a few minutes, when she heard something in the path running parallel to her own that made him stop dead.

"What are you doing?" yelled Harry's voice. "What the hell d'you think you're doing?"

And then James heard Krum's voice.

"Crucio!"

The air was suddenly full of Harry's yells. Horrified, James began sprinting up her path, trying to find a way into Harry's. When none appeared, she tried the Reductor Curse again. It wasn't very effective, but it burned a small hole in the hedge through which James forced her leg, kicking at the thick brambles and branches until they broke and made an opening; she struggled through it and looking to her right, saw Harry jerking and twitching on the ground, Krum standing over him.

James pulled herself up and pointed her wand at Krum just as Krum looked up. Krum turned and began to run.

"Locomotor Mortis" James screamed.

"Expelliarmus!" James fired again catching Krum's wand.

"Stupefy." James said again. Panting slightly taking out some of her fear on the boy that had been torturing her cousin with that spell. She glared at nothing for a moment before glancing at Harry.

The spells hit Krum in the back; he stopped dead in his tracks, fell forward, and lay motionless, facedown in the grass. James-dashed over to Harry, who had stopped twitching and was lying there panting, his hands over his face.

"Are you all right?" James said roughly, grabbing Harry's arm.

"Yeah," panted Harry. "Yeah… I don't believe it… he crept up behind me… I heard him, I turned around, and he had his wand on me…"

Harry got up. He was still shaking. She and Harry looked down at Krum.

"I can't believe this… I thought he was all right," James said, staring at Krum.

"So did I," said Harry.

"Did you hear Fleur scream earlier?" said James.

"Yeah," said Harry. "You don't think Krum got her too?"

"I don't know," said James slowly.

"Should we leave him here?" Harry muttered.

"No," said James. "I reckon we should send up red sparks. Someone'll come and collect him… otherwise he'll probably be eaten by a skrewt."

"He'd deserve it," Harry muttered, but all the same, he grabbed Krum's wand and shot a shower of red sparks into the air, which hovered high above Krum, marking the spot where he lay. Then discarded it, throwing it at Krum's stunned form.

Harry and James stood there in the darkness for a moment, looking around them.

Then James said, "Well… I s'pose we'd better go on…"

"What?" said Harry. "Oh… yeah… right…"

It was an odd moment. She and Harry had been briefly united against Krum – now the fact that they were opponents came back to James. The two of them proceeded up the dark path without speaking, then Harry turned left, and James right.

Harry's footsteps soon died away.

James moved on, continuing to use the Four-Point Spell, making sure she was moving in the right direction. It was between her and Harry now. Her desire to reach the cup first was now burning stronger than ever, but she could hardly believe what she'd just seen Krum do. The use of an Unforgivable Curse on a fellow human being meant a life term in Azkaban, that was what Moody had told them. Krum surely couldn't have wanted the Triwizard Cup that badly… James sped up.

Every so often she hit more dead ends, but the increasing darkness made him feel sure he was getting near the heart of the maze. Then, as she strode down a long, straight path, she saw movement once again, and her beam of wandlight hit an extraordinary creature, one which she had only seen in picture form, in her Monster Book of Monsters.

It was a sphinx. It had the body of an over-large lion: great clawed paws and a long yellowish tail ending in a brown tuft. Its head, however, was that of a woman. She turned her long, almond-shaped eyes upon James as she approached. She dropped her wand, hesitating. She was not crouching as if to spring, but pacing from side to side of the path, blocking his progress. Then she spoke, in a deep, hoarse voice.

"You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me."

"So… so will you move, please?" said James, knowing what the answer was going to be.

"No," she said, continuing to pace. "Not unless you can answer my riddle. Answer on your first guess - I let you pass. Answer wrongly - I attack. Remain silent – I will let you walk away from me unscathed."

If the riddle was too hard, she could keep silent, get away from the sphinx unharmed, and try and find an alternative route to the center.

"Okay," she said. "Can I hear the riddle?"

The sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very middle of the path, and recited:

"First think of the person who lives in disguise,

Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies.

Next, tell me what's always the last thing to mend,

The middle of middle and end of the end?

And finally give me the sound often heard

During the search for a hard-to-find word.

Now string them together, and answer me this,

Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?"

James blinked her eyes, trying to connect the dots.

"Could I have it again… more slowly?" she asked tentatively. She blinked at her, smiled, and repeated the poem. "All the clues add up to a creature I wouldn't want to kiss?" James asked.

She merely smiled her mysterious smile.

James took that for a "yes."

James cast her mind around. There were plenty of animals she wouldn't want to kiss; her immediate thought was a Blast-Ended Skrewt, but something told her that wasn't the answer. She'd have to try and work out the clues…

"A person in disguise," James muttered, staring at her, "who lies… er… that'd be a - an impostor. No, that's not my guess! A - a spy? I'll come back to that… could you give me the next clue again, please?"

She repeated the next lines of the poem.

"'The last thing to mend,'" Harry repeated. "Er… no idea… 'middle of middle'… could I have the last bit again?"

She gave him the last four lines.

"'The sound often heard during the search for a hard-to-find word,'" said James. "Er… that'd be… er… hang on - 'er'! Er's a sound!"

The sphinx smiled at him.

"Spy… er… spy… er…" said James, pacing up and down. "A creature I wouldn't want to kiss… a spider!"

The sphinx smiled more broadly. She got up, stretched her front legs, and then moved aside for her to pass.

"Thanks!" said James and, amazed at her own brilliance, she dashed forward.

She had to be close now, she had to be… Her wand was telling her she was bang on course; as long as she didn't meet anything too horrible, she might have a chance…

James broke into a run. Sh had a choice of paths up ahead. "Point Me!" she whispered again to her wand, and it spun around and pointed her to the right-hand one. She dashed up this one and saw light ahead.

She froze in shock, as someone began to get into her mind.

"You should send up red sparks." The voice whispered alluringly into her ear.

"Why?" James asked her eyes on the prize in front of her.

The Triwizard Cup was gleaming on a plinth a hundred yards away. Suddenly a dark figure hurtled out onto the path in front of her

Harry was going to get there first. Harry was sprinting as fast as he could toward the cup, and James knew she would never catch up, Harry was much taller, had much longer legs –

The voice was screeching at her, but she shoved it off and her eyes took in more things. She could hear better as well not feeling as if she was half awake anymore. How strange…

Then James saw something immense over a hedge to her left, moving quickly along a path that intersected with her own; it was moving so fast Harry was about to run into it, and Harry, his eyes on the cup, had not seen it –

"Harry!" James cried. "On your left!"

Harry looked around just in time to hurl himself past the thing and avoid colliding with it, but in his haste, he tripped. James saw Harry's wand fly out of his hand as a gigantic spider stepped into the path and began to bear down upon Harry, he was lifted into the air in its front legs; struggling madly, he tried to kick it; his leg connected with the pincers and next moment he was in excruciating pain. He could hear James yelling "Stupefy!" too, but her spell had no more effect than Harry's - Harry raised his wand as the spider opened its pincers once more and shouted "Expelliarmus!"

It worked - the Disarming Spell made the spider drop him, but that meant that Harry fell twelve feet onto his already injured leg, which crumpled beneath him.

Without pausing to think, he aimed high at the spider's underbelly, as he had done with the skrewt, and shouted "Stupefy!'' just as James yelled the same thing.

The two spells combined did what one alone had not: The spider keeled over sideways, flattening a nearby hedge, and strewing the path with a tangle of hairy legs.

"Harry!" he heard James shouting. "You all right? Did it fall on you?"

"No," Harry called back, panting. He looked down at his leg. It was bleeding freely. He could see some sort of thick, gluey secretion from the spider's pincers on his torn robes.

He tried to get up, but his leg was shaking badly and did not want to support his weight. He leaned against the hedge, gasping for breath, and looked around.

James was standing feet from the Triwizard Cup, which was gleaming behind her.

"Take it, then," Harry panted to James. "Go on, take it. You're there."

But James didn't move. She merely stood there, looking at Harry. Then she turned to stare at the cup. Harry saw the longing expression on his face in its golden light. James looked around at Harry again, who was now holding onto the hedge to support himself. James took a deep breath.

"You take it. I've barely run into anything in here." James said to her cousin.

"That's not how it's supposed to work," Harry said. He felt angry; his leg was very painful, he was aching all over from trying to throw off the spider, and after all his efforts, James had beaten him to it. "The one who reaches the cup first gets the points. That's you. I'm telling you, I'm not going to win any races on this leg."

James took a few paces nearer to the Stunned spider, away from the cup, shaking her head.

"No," she said.

"Stop being noble," said Harry irritably.

"Just take it, then we can get out of here."

James watched Harry steadying himself, holding tight to the hedge.

"Stop being a dumbass," James said. "I never wanted the damn thing in the first place.."

"You never got the credit you deserved in this whole thing," Harry snapped, trying to mop up his bloody leg with his robes. "Take it."

"Not like that's any fucking different!," said James.

"So Take it," said Harry, testing his leg gingerly; it shook violently as he put weight on it; he had sprained his ankle when the spider had dropped him.

"No," said James mulishly. "Idiot."

"I'm always taking your fucking glory! The one getting you hurt," said Harry bitterly. "Just take the cup!"

"No," said James.

She stepped over the spider's tangled legs to join Harry, who stared at him. James was serious. She was walking away from the sort of glory the Black family had never had.

"Go on," James said. She looked as though this was costing her every ounce of resolution she had, but her face was set, her arms were folded, she seemed decided.

Harry looked from James to the cup. For one shining moment, he saw himself emerging from the maze, holding it. He saw himself holding the Triwizard Cup aloft, heard the roar of the crowd, saw Luna's face shining with admiration, more clearly than he had ever seen it before… and then the picture faded, and he found himself staring at James's shadowy, stubborn face.

"Both of us," Harry said.

"What?"

"We'll take it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."

James stared at Harry. She unfolded her arms.

"You - you sure?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah… we've helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. Let's just take it together."

For a moment, James looked as though she couldn't believe her ears; then her face split in a grin.

"You're on," she said. "Come here."

She grabbed Harrys arm below the shoulder and helped Harry limp toward the plinth where the cup stood. When they had reached it, they both held a hand out over one of the cup's gleaming handles.

"On three, right?" said Harry. "One - two - three -"

He and James both grasped a handle.

Instantly, James felt a jerk somewhere behind her navel. Her feet had left the ground. She could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling her onward in a howl of wind and swirling color, Harry at her side.

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Hope you guys liked it!

Hisagi-Tan out~


	26. Chapter 26

So my second chapter in this story and the twenty-sixth of it, I hope you guys like it =D.

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James felt her feet slam into the ground; her arm caught Harry as his leg gave out on him, his green eyes peering to look up at her, the cup slipping from their hands at the quick stumble catch.

"Where are we?" he said.

James shook her head. They had left the Hogwarts grounds completely; they had obviously traveled miles - perhaps hundreds of miles - for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. They were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right. A hill rose above them to their left. James could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.

James looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Harry.

"Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?" she asked.

"Nope," said Harry. He was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?"

"I dunno," said James. She sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?"

"Yeah," said Harry, glad that James had made the suggestion rather than him.

They pulled out their wands. James kept looking around her. She had, yet again, the strange feeling that they were being watched.

"Someone's coming," she said suddenly.

Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched the figure drawing nearer, walking steadily toward them between the graves. James couldn't make out a face, but from the way it was walking and holding its arms, she could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And - several paces nearer, the gap between them closing all the time - James saw that the thing in the persons arms looked like a baby… or was it merely a bundle of robes?

Harry lowered his wand slightly and glanced sideways at James. James shot him a quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figure. It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second Harry, James, and the short figure simply looked at one another.

And then, without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all; his head was about to split open.

From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say, "Kill the spare."

A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night:

"Avada Kedavra!"

A blast of green light blazed through Harry's eyelids, and he heard something heavy fall to the ground beside him; the pain in his scar reached such a pitch that he retched, and then it diminished; terrified of what he was about to see, he opened his stinging eyes.

James was lying on the ground on her side, her hair staying in front of her face keeping it from view. She seemed to have jerked to the right instead of the left and the curse hit her harshly. She wasn't moving…She had to be dead…James…

For a second that contained an eternity, Harry stared into James face, her dark onyx hair that fell in tangled waves, the pale skin that should have been pink from the cold, and the still frame. And then, before Harry's mind had accepted what he was seeing, before he could feel anything but numb disbelief, he felt himself being pulled to his feet.

The short man in the cloak had put down his bundle, lit his wand, and was dragging Harry toward the marble headstone. Harry saw the name upon it flickering in the wand light before he was forced around and slammed against it.

TOM RIDDLE

The cloaked man was now conjuring tight cords around Harry, tying him from neck to ankles to the headstone. Harry could hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the hood; he struggled, and the man hit him - hit him with a hand that had a finger missing.

And Harry realized who was under the hood. It was Wormtail.

"You!" he gasped the anger seeming to course through him, "You killed her! James. Sirius will murder you, and you fucking deserve it! You fucking traitorous rat! You killed her!"

But Wormtail, who had finished conjuring the ropes, did not reply; he was busy checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, rumbling over the knots. Once sure that Harry was bound so tightly to the headstone that he couldn't move an inch, Wormtail drew a length of some black material from the inside of his cloak and stuffed it roughly into Harry's mouth; then, without a word, he turned from Harry and hurried away. Harry couldn't make a sound, nor could he see where Wormtail had gone; he couldn't turn his head to see beyond the headstone; he could see only what was right in front of him.

James's body was lying some twenty feet away. Some way beyond her, glinting in the starlight, lay the Triwizard Cup. Harry's wand was on the ground at James's feet. The bundle of robes that Harry had thought was a baby was close by, at the foot of the grave. It seemed to be stirring fretfully. Harry watched it, and his scar seared with pain again… and he suddenly knew that he didn't want to see what was in those robes… he didn't want that bundle opened…

He could hear noises at his feet. He looked down and saw a gigantic snake slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where he was tied. Wormtail's fast, wheezy breathing was growing louder again. It sounded as though he was forcing something heavy across the ground. Then he came back within Harry's range of vision, and Harry saw him pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of the grave. It was full of what seemed to be water -

Harry could hear it slopping around - and it was larger than any cauldron Harry had ever used; a great stone belly large enough for a full-grown man to sit in.

The thing inside the bundle of robes on the ground was stirring more persistently, as though it was trying to free itself. Now Wormtail was busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand. Suddenly there were crackling names beneath it. The large snake slithered away into the darkness. The liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat very fast. The surface began not only to bubble, but to send out fiery sparks, as though it were on fire. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of Wormtail tending the fire. The movements beneath the robes became more agitated. And Harry heard the high, cold voice again.

"Hurry!"

The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now. It might have been encrusted with diamonds.

"It is ready Master."

"Now…" said the cold voice.

Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and Harry let out a yell that was strangled in the wad of material blocking his mouth.

It was as though Wormtail had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind - but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormtail had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face - no child alive ever had a face like that - flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

The thing seemed almost helpless; it raised its thin arms, put them around Wormtail's neck, and Wormtail lifted it. As he did so, his hood fell back, and Harry saw the look of revulsion on Wormtail's weak, pale face in the firelight as he carried the creature to the rim of the cauldron. For one moment, Harry saw the evil, flat face illuminated in the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion. And then Wormtail lowered the creature into the cauldron; there was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface; Harry heard its frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud.

Let it drown, Harry thought, his scar burning almost past endurance, please… let it drown…

Wormtail was speaking. His voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified, Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

And now Wormtail was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs.

"Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master."

He stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward.

Harry realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened – he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the dagger too. He heard something fall to the ground, heard Wormtail's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron.

Harry couldn't stand to look… but the potion had turned a burning red; the light of it shone through Harry's closed eyelids…

Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony. Not until Harry felt Wormtail's anguished breath on his face did he realize that Wormtail was right in front of him.

"B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe."

Harry could do nothing to prevent it, he was tied too tightly… Squinting down, struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, he saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtails remaining hand. He felt its point penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes. Wormtail, still panting with pain, rumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it.

He staggered back to the cauldron with Harry's blood. He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white. Wormtail, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.

The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened…

Let it have drowned. Harry thought, let it have gone wrong…

And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Harry, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or James or anything but vapor hanging in the air… It's gone wrong, he thought… it's drowned… please… please let it be dead…

But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.

"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Wormtail, sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one handed over his master's head.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry… and Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for three years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snakes with slits for nostrils…

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

James looked at this with blurry vision, the curse's impact on her frame having knocked her out. Her head was throbbing like made and she was sure some of her ribs were broken. Her breaths coming to her in wheezes, as she was sure something was wrong there. She was grateful that she wasn't noticed yet as she stirred, moving to grasp Harry's wand and her own.

Voldemort looked away from Harry and began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cats, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness.

He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He took not the slightest notice of Wormtail, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Harry again, hissing. Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying.

Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Harry, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

Wormtail's robes were shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.

"My Lord…" he choked, "my Lord… you promised… you did promise…"

"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.

"Oh Master… thank you, Master…"

He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again.

"The other arm, Wormtail."

"Master, please… please…"

Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow, and James saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth - the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark. Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.

"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it… and now, we shall see… now we shall know…"

He pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.

The scar on Harry's forehead seared with a sharp pain again, and Wormtail let out a fresh howl; Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's mark, and James saw that it had turned jet black.

A look of cruel satisfaction on his face, Voldemort straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark graveyard.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

He began to pace up and down before Harry and Wormtail, eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. After a minute or so, he looked down at Harry again, a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face.

"You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly. "A Muggle and a fool… very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child… and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death…"

Voldemort laughed again. Up and down he paced, looking all around him as he walked, and the snake continued to circle in the grass.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was… He didn't like magic, my father…He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage… but I vowed to find him… I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name… Tom Riddle…"

Still he paced, his red eyes darting from grave to grave.

"Listen to me, reliving family history…" he said quietly, "why, I am growing quite sentimental… But look, Harry! My true family returns…"

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward… slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes Voldemort stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort and kissed the hem of his black robes.

"Master… Master" he murmured.

The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle's grave, Harry, Voldemort, and the sobbing and twitching heap that was Wormtail. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people. Voldemort, however, did not seem to expect more. He looked around at the hooded faces, and though there was no wind rustling seemed to run around the circle, as though it had shivered.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," said Voldemort quietly. "Thirteen years… thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday, we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"

He put back his terrible face and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening.

"I smell guilt," he said. "There is a stench or guilt upon the air."

A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare to step back from him.

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact - such prompt appearances! And I ask myself… why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke. No one moved except Wormtail, who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

"And I answer myself," whispered Voldemort, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment…And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living? And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort… perhaps they now pay allegiance to another… perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Voldemort ignored them.

"It is a disappointment to me… I confess myself disappointed…"

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.

"Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked; Harry was sure the sound must carry to the houses around… Let the police come, he thought desperately… anyone… anything…James…He froze watching as the girl moved quickly and silently towards him in her fox form. Both of their wands in her mouth, she was quick and darted behind Tom Riddle Sr. tombstone, like a ghost.

Voldemort raised his wand. The tortured Death Eater lay flat upon the ground, gasping.

"Get up, Avery," said Voldemort softly. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years… I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?"

He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," moaned Wormtail, "please. Master… please…"

"Yet you helped return me to my body," said Voldemort coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me… and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers…"

Voldemort raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared downward and fixed itself upon Wormtails bleeding wrist.

Wormtail's sobbing stopped abruptly. His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the shining fingers, then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground and crushed it into powder.

"My Lord," he whispered. "Master… it is beautiful… thank you… thank you…"

He scrambled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes.

"May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail," said Voldemort.

"No, my Lord… never, my Lord…"

Wormtail stood up and took his place in the circle, staring at his powerful new hand, his face still shining with tears. Voldemort now approached the man on Wormtail's right.

"Lucius, my slippery friend," he whispered, halting before him. "I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius… Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay… but might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?"

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," came Lucius Malfoy's voice swiftly from beneath the hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me -"

"And yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?" said Voldemort lazily, and Mr. Malfoy stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius… You have disappointed me… I expect more faithful service in the future."

"Of course, my Lord, of course… You are merciful, thank you…"

Voldemort moved on, and stopped, staring at the space - large enough for two people - that separated Malfoy and the next man.

"The Lestranges should stand here," said Voldemort quietly.

"But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me… When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams. The dementors will join us… they are our natural allies… we will recall the banished giants… I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear…"

He walked on. Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, but he paused before others and spoke to them.

"Macnair… destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide…"

"Thank you, Master… thank you," murmured Macnair.

"And here" - Voldemort moved on to the two largest hooded figures - "we have Crabbe… you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

"Yes, Master…"

"We will, Master…"

"The same goes for you, Nott," said Voldemort quietly as he walked past a stooped figure in Mr. Goyles shadow.

"My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful -"

"That will do," said Voldemort.

He had reached the largest gap of all, and he stood surveying it with his blank, red eyes, as though he could see people standing there.

"And here we have six missing Death Eaters… three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return… he will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever… he will be killed, of course… and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already reentered my service."

The Death Eaters stirred, and James saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.

"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived here tonight…

"Yes," said Voldemort, a grin curling his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle flashed in Harry's direction. "Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honor."

There was a silence. Then the Death Eater to the right of Wormtail stepped forward, and Lucius Malfoy's voice spoke from under the mask.

"Master, we crave to know… we beg you to tell us… how you have achieved this… this miracle… how you managed to return to us…"

"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius," said Voldemort. "And it begins - and ends – with my young friend here."

He walked lazily over to stand next to Harry, so that the eyes of the whole circle were upon the two of them. The snake continued to circle. James stayed back out of the snake's view, however shivered as the man came closer towards them. She was honestly scared for her life.

"You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" Voldemort said softly, his red eyes upon Harry, whose scar began to burn so fiercely that he almost screamed in agony. "You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him – and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen… I could not touch the boy."

Voldemort raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Harry's cheek.

"His mother left upon him the traces other sacrifice… This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it… but no matter. I can touch him now."

Harry felt the cold tip of the long white finger touch him, and thought his head would burst with the pain.

Voldemort laughed softly in his ear, then took the finger away and continued addressing the Death Eaters.

"I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself. Aaah… pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it. I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost… but still, I was alive. What I was, even I do not know… I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal - to conquer death. And now, I was tested, and it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked… for I had not been killed, though the curse should have done it. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself… for I had no body, and every spell that might have helped me required the use of a wand…I remember only forcing myself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist… I settled in a faraway place, in a forest, and I waited… Surely, one of my faithful Death Eaters would try and find me… one of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body… but I waited in vain…"

The shiver ran once more around the circle of listening Death Eaters. Voldemort let the silence spiral horribly before continuing.

"Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me. I sometimes inhabited animals - snakes, of course, being my preference - but I was little better off inside them than as pure spirit, for their bodies were ill adapted to perform magic… and my possession of them shortened their lives; none of them lasted long…

"Then… four years ago… the means for my return seemed assured. A wizard - young, foolish, and gullible - wandered across my path in the forest I had made my home. Oh, he seemed the very chance I had been dreaming of… for he was a teacher at Dumbledore's school… he was easy to bend to my will… he brought me back to this country, and after a while, I took possession of his body, to supervise him closely as he carried out my orders. But my plan failed. I did not manage to steal the Philosopher's Stone. I was not to be assured immortal life. I was thwarted… thwarted, once again, by Harry Potter…only he had help, by a witch his cousin a James Black. But she is no more."

Silence once more; nothing was stirring, not even the leaves on the yew tree. The Death Eaters were frozen it seemed only slight tremors running the lengths of their bodies, the glittering eyes in their masks fixed upon Voldemort, and upon Harry.

"The servant died when I left his body, and I was left as weak as ever I had been," Voldemort continued. "I returned to my hiding place far away, and I will not pretend to you that I didn't then fear that I might never regain my powers… Yes, that was perhaps my darkest hour… I could not hope that I would be sent another wizard to possess… and I had given up hope, now, that any of my Death Eaters cared what had become of me…"

One or two of the masked wizards in the circle moved uncomfortably, but Voldemort took no notice.

"And then, not even a year ago, when I had almost abandoned hope, it happened at last… a servant returned to me. Wormtail here, who had faked his own death to escape justice, was driven out of hiding by those he had once counted friends, and decided to return to his master. He sought me in the country where it had long been rumored I was hiding… helped, of course, by the rats he met along the way. Wormtail has a curious affinity with rats, do you not, Wormtail? His filthy little friends told him there was a place, deep in an Albanian forest, that they avoided, where small animals like themselves had met their deaths by a dark shadow that possessed them…But his journey back to me was not smooth, was it, Wormtail? For, hungry one night, on the edge of the very forest where he had hoped to find me, he foolishly stopped at an inn for some food… and who should he meet there, but one Bertha Jorkins, a witch from the Ministry of Magic. Now see the way that fate favors Lord Voldemort. This might have been the end of Wormtail, and of my last hope for regeneration. But Wormtail - displaying a presence of mind I would never have expected from him –convinced Bertha Jorkins to accompany him on a nighttime stroll. He overpowered her… he brought her to me. And Bertha Jorkins, who might have ruined all, proved instead to be a gift beyond my wildest dreams… for - with a little persuasion - she became a veritable mine of information. She told me that the Triwizard Tournament would be played at Hogwarts this year. She told me that she knew of a faithful Death Eater who would be only too willing to help me, if I could only contact him. She told me many things… but the means I used to break the Memory Charm upon her were powerful, and when I had extracted all useful information from her, her mind and body were both damaged beyond repair. She had now served her purpose. I could not possess her. I disposed of her."

Voldemort smiled his terrible smile, his red eyes blank and pitiless.

"Wormtail's body, of course, was ill adapted for possession, as all assumed him dead, and would attract far too much attention if noticed. However, he was the able-bodied servant I needed, and, poor wizard though he is, Wormtail was able to follow the instructions I gave him, which would return me to a rudimentary, weak body of my own, a body I would be able to inhabit while awaiting the essential ingredients for true rebirth… a spell or two of my own invention… a little help from my dear Nagini," Voldemorts red eyes fell upon the continually circling snake, "a potion concocted from unicorn blood, and the snake venom Nagini provided… I was soon returned to an almost human form, and strong enough to was no hope of stealing the Philosopher's Stone anymore, for I knew that Dumbledore would have seen to it that it was destroyed. But I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortality. I set my sights lower… I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength. I knew that to achieve this - it is an old piece of Dark Magic, the potion that revived me tonight - I would need three powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormtail? Flesh given by a servant…My father's bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried. But the blood of a foe… Wormtail would have had me use any wizard, would you not, Wormtail? Any wizard who had hated me… as so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harry Potter's blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago… for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too…But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him there…Then, of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup… I thought his protection might be weaker there, away from his relations and Dumbledore, but I was not yet strong enough to attempt kidnap in the midst of a horde of Ministry wizards. And then, the boy would return to Hogwarts, where he is under the crooked nose of that Muggle-loving fool from morning until night. So how could I take him? Why… by using Bertha Jorkins's information, of course. Use my one faithful Death Eater, stationed at Hogwarts, to ensure that the boy's name was entered into the Goblet of Fire. Use my Death Eater to ensure that the boy won the tournament - that he touched the Triwizard Cup first - the cup which my Death Eater had turned into a Portkey, which would bring him here, beyond the reach of Dumbledore's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here he is… the boy you all believed had been my downfall…"

Voldemort moved slowly forward and turned to face Harry. He raised his wand.

"Crucio!"

"No!" James reacted quickly moving in front of Harry, sending the snake flying back.

It was pain beyond anything James had ever experienced; her very bones were on fire; her head was surely splitting; her eyes were rolling madly in her head; she wanted it to end… to black out… to die…

And then it was gone. She was on her hands and knees, pale and shaking looking up into those shocked bright red eyes through a kind of mist.

"Wormtail killed you." Voldemort said with weary voice as he eyed the girl. James, didn't react her eyes were still blurry and she felt like she was about to throw up.

"How are you still alive child! Answer me!" Voldemort walked quickly and grabbed the girl by her jacket and lifting her to eye level with fierce wild ruby red eyes.

"Mirror, endless rune." James choked out, her ribs screaming in protest. Voldemort seemed slightly surprised at this.

"A smart child." Voldemort said gazing at her with something in his eyes.

"Too smart." James said. "Watch it Harry."

Harry blinked in confusion before shaking his head.

"I'm not leaving you." Harry said quickly.

"Do it now!" James snarled and Harry twisted his hand quickly and then with a stomach upsetting pull and swirl he was gone from the grave yard.

With a swift kick to Voldemort's leg he released James with pained cry and James quickly transformed and ran as quickly as she could, dodging bright lights sent her way. Most of the lights and acid green like her cousin's eyes. She slid dodging a set of sharp glistening teeth of the large snake she had blasted from the tombstone. She transformed to her human form and grasped the Triwizard cup and with a lurch she was gone. The long rage filled scream, throbbing through her head. Ending up in the clearing she started out at the beginning of the task with the cup in her hands.

Her eyes went to towards the stands where most of the teachers were converging on towards where she could see Harry was. Then with a faint smile James felt her body go limp and her vision faded to darkness. A shrill cry the last thing she heard before she was out.

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So like or no? Review please ^-^

Hisagi-Tan Out~


	27. Chapter 27

So here's the twenty seventh chapter! Thank SilverWolfLostStar for it being so early. They really made my day with that review so I'll make theirs hopefully with a new chapter ^-^

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She woke suddenly to an insane amount of pain in her chest, she blinked and then groaned. A torrent of sound deafened and confused her; there were voices everywhere, footsteps, screams… She remained where she was, her face screwed up against the noise, as though it were a nightmare that would pass…

Then a pair of hands seized her roughly and turned her over.

"James! Jay-bird!"

She opened her eyes.

She was looking up at the starry sky, and Sirius was crouched over her. The dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around them, pushing nearer; James felt the ground beneath her head reverberating with their footsteps.

She had come back to the edge of the maze. She could see the stands rising above her, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above.

James curled into her father's arms that held her tightly, shushing people and growling at those who came to close to his pup.

"He's back," James whispered. "He's back. Voldemort."

"What's going on? What's happened?"

The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside down over James; it looked white, appalled.

"My God - Black!" it whispered. "Dumbledore – is she dead!?"

The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them… and then others shouted it - screeched it - into the night –

"She's dead!"

"She's dead!"

"James Black! Dead!"

"Mr. Black, let go of her," she heard Fudge's voice say, and she felt fingers trying to pry Sirius from her limp body, but Sirius wouldn't let her go. Then Dumbledore's face, which was still blurred and misted, came closer.

"Sirius, you can't help her now. It's over. Let go- My goodness! Poppy! Quickly, she's still alive!"

"James… just keep your eyes open and calm even breaths."

Dumbledore bent down, and with extraordinary strength for a man so old and thin, raised James from the ground and into his arms, before turning and running with Poppy by his side. Sirius racing after them, his face an ashen white and his frame it seemed to be shaking.

Harry swayed. His head was pounding. His injured leg would no longer support his weight. He felt it buckle before he almost fell, Remus supporting him by the waist as the Weasley's pushed through the crowd towards them. Fred was violently making his way over, shaking and pale. The crowd around them jostled, fighting to get closer, pressing darkly in on him - "What's happened?"

"What's wrong with him?"

"Black's dead!"

"He'll need to go to the hospital wing!" Fudge was saying loudly. "He's ill, he's injured – Were-Lupin, Black's friends, they're here, they're in the stands…"

"I'll take Harry, Lupin, I'll take him -"

"No, I would prefer-"

"Lupin, Fred Weasley's running… he's coming over… Don't you think you should tell him - before he hears?"

"Harry, stay here -"

Girls were screaming, sobbing hysterically… The scene flickered oddly before Harry's eyes…

"It's all right, son, I've got you… come on… hospital wing…"

"Remus said stay," said Harry thickly, the pounding in his scar making him feel as though he was about to throw up; his vision was blurring worse than ever.

"You need to lie down… Come on now…"

Someone larger and stronger than he was was half pulling, half carrying him through the frightened crowd. Harry heard people gasping, screaming, and shouting as the man supporting him pushed a path through them, taking him back to the castle. Across the lawn, past the lake and the Durmstrang ship, Harry heard nothing but the heavy breathing of the man helping him walk.

"What happened Harry?" the man asked at last as he lifted Harry up the stone steps. Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. It was Mad-Eye Moody.

"Cup was a Portkey," said Harry as they crossed the entrance hall. "Took me and James to a graveyard… and Voldemort was there… Lord Voldemort…"

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Up the marble stairs…

"The Dark Lord was there? What happened then?"

"Killed James… they killed James…"

"And then?"

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Along the corridor…

"Made a potion… got his body back…"

"The Dark Lord got his body back? He's returned?"

"And the Death Eaters came… and then James was alive…Crucio."

"You were hit with a Crucio?"

"James…Alive…in front of me…painful screams…gasping breaths…endless rune…mirror. Watch portkey…Hermione…bracelet."

"In here Harry… in here, and sit down… You'll be all right now… drink this…"

Harry heard a key scrape in a lock and felt a cup being pushed into his hands.

"Drink it… you'll feel better… come on, now. Harry, I need to know exactly what happened…"

Moody helped tip the stuff down Harrys throat; he coughed, a peppery taste burning his throat. Moody's office came into sharper focus, and so did Moody himself… He looked as white as Fudge had looked, and both eyes were fixed unblinkingly upon Harry's face.

"Voldemort's back, Harry? You're sure he's back? How did he do it?"

"He took stuff from his father's grave, and from Wormtail, and me," said Harry.

His head felt clearer; his scar wasn't hurting so badly; he could now see Moody's face distinctly, even though the office was dark. He could still hear screaming and shouting from the distant Quidditch field.

"What did the Dark Lord take from you?" said Moody.

"Blood," said Harry, raising his arm. His sleeve was ripped where Wormtail's dagger had torn it.

Moody let out his breath in a long, low hiss.

"And the Death Eaters? They returned?"

"Yes," said Harry. "Loads of them…"

"How did he treat them?" Moody asked quietly. "Did he forgive them?"

But Harry had suddenly remembered. He should have told Dumbledore, he should have said it to Remus straightaway –

"There's a Death Eater at Hogwarts! There's a Death Eater here - they put my name in the Goblet of Fire, they made sure I got through to the end -"

Harry tried to get up, but Moody pushed him back down.

"I know who the Death Eater is," he said quietly.

"Karkaroff?" said Harry wildly. "Where is he? Have you got him? Is he locked up?"

"Karkaroff?" said Moody with an odd laugh. "Karkaroff fled tonight, when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them… but I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his enemies."

"Karkaroff's gone? He ran away? But then - he didn't put my name in the goblet?"

"No," said Moody slowly. "No, he didn't. It was I who did that."

Harry heard, but didn't believe.

"No, you didn't," he said. "You didn't do that… you can't have done…"

"I assure you I did," said Moody, and his magical eye swung around and fixed upon the door, and Harry knew he was making sure that there was no one outside it. At the same time, Moody drew out his wand and pointed it at Harry. Then it came back to Harry violently, James.

"_He doesn't know who he's messing with…Don't let yourself be alone with him…Something's not right with him, trust me on this. Moody, he Obliviated me…"_ James words from the past few weeks swirled his mind and he could feel his body turn cold at the feeling.

"He forgave them, then?" he said. "The Death Eaters who went free? The ones who escaped Azkaban?"

"What?" said Harry.

He was looking at the wand Moody was pointing at him.

"I asked you," said Moody quietly, "whether he forgave the scum who never even went to look for him. Those treacherous cowards who wouldn't even brave Azkaban for him. The faithless, worthless bits of filth who were brave enough to cavort in masks at the Quidditch World Cup, but fled at the sight of the Dark Mark when I fired it into the sky."

"You fired… What are you talking about…?"

"I told you Harry… I told you. If there's one thing I hate more than any other, it's a Death Eater who walked free. They turned their backs on my master when he needed them most. I expected him to punish them. I expected him to torture them. Tell me he hurt them, Harry…" Moody's face was suddenly lit with an insane smile.

"Tell me he told them that I, I alone remained faithful… prepared to risk everything to deliver to him the one thing he wanted above all… you"

"James's was right…She's always bloody right…"

"Who put your name in the Goblet of Fire, under the name of a different school? I did. Who frightened off every person I thought might try to hurt you or prevent you from winning the tournament? I did. Who nudged Hagrid into showing you the dragons? I did. Who helped you see the only way you could beat the dragon? I did. Then that chit James Black had to see through me. She was so close to making it to Dumbledore and it would have been over, however I stopped her in time. Put a wrench in her memory and left her in the forest hoping something would eat her, but that damned Half-giant found her. She wasn't stupid afterwards, Gryffindor or not that girl's a Slytherin when it comes down to it. Figured out I had a foe glass and how to counter it."

Moody's magical eye had now left the door. It was fixed upon Harry. His lopsided mouth leered more widely than ever.

"It hasn't been easy, Harry, guiding you through these tasks without arousing suspicion. I have had to use every ounce of cunning I possess, so that my hand would not be detectable in your success. Dumbledore would have been very suspicious if you had managed everything too easily. As long as you got into that maze, preferably with a decent head start - then, I knew, I would have a chance of getting rid of the other champions and leaving your way clear. But I also had to contend with your stupidity. The second task… that was when I was most afraid we would fail. I was keeping watch on you, Potter. I knew you hadn't worked out the egg's clue, but then your cousin told you after she figured it out herself."

"She told me because were cousin's not something you could have tricked her into!" Harry snarled at the man.

"That's correct. Your cousin isn't easy to manipulate and I knew to stay away from her, but she figured it out ever then. She had always been suspicious of me ever since I turned Nott's child into a ferret. I wondered why and then occurred to me that James knew that Moody at should have been more respectful to Dumbledore than to do that too a student. It was a weak thing but it had planted the seed of doubt in her mind."

Moody's wand was still pointing directly at Harry's heart. Over his shoulder, foggy shapes were moving in the Foe-Glass on the wall.

"James isn't dead; she'd have figured you out and said something by now." Harry said finally gazing the other in the eye; he had faith in his cousin.

"You rely too much on that girl," said Moody. "She's smart and calculating but at the end of the day she's still a Black. Black's don't have the best sense of timing or the moral code for the dependency you have on her."

Harry stared at Moody. He just didn't see how this could be… Dumbledore's friend, the famous Auror… the one who had caught so many Death Eaters… It made no sense… no sense at all…

The foggy shapes in the Foe-Glass were sharpening, had become more distinct. Harry could see the outlines of three people over Moody's shoulder, moving closer and closer. But Moody wasn't watching them. His magical eye was upon Harry.

"The Dark Lord didn't manage to kill you Potter, and he so wanted to," whispered Moody. "Imagine how he will reward me when he finds I have done it for him. I gave you to him - the thing he needed above all to regenerate - and then I killed you for him. I will be honored beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter… closer than a son…"

Moody's normal eye was bulging, the magical eye fixed upon Harry. The door was barred, and Harry knew he would never reach his own wand in time…

"The Dark Lord and I," said Moody, and he looked completely insane now, towering over Harry, leering down at him, "have much in common. Both of us, for instance, had very disappointing fathers… very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignity, Harry, of being named after those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure… the very great pleasure… of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!"

"You're mad," Harry said - he couldn't stop himself- "you're mad!"

"Mad, am I?" said Moody, his voice rising uncontrollably. "We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me at his side! He is back, Harry Potter, you did not conquer him - and now - I conquer you!"

Moody raised his wand, he opened his mouth; Harry plunged his own hand into his robes -

"Stupefy!" There was a blinding flash of red light, and with a great splintering and crashing, the door of Moody's office was blasted apart – Moody was thrown backward onto the office floor.

Harry, still staring at the place where Moody's face had been, saw Albus Dumbledore, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall looking back at him out of the Foe-Glass. He looked around and saw the three of them standing in the doorway, Dumbledore in front, his wand outstretched.

At that moment, Harry fully understood for the first time why people said Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared. The look upon Dumbledore's face as he stared down at the unconscious form of Mad-Eye Moody was more terrible than Harry could have ever imagined. There was no benign smile upon Dumbledore's face, no twinkle in the eyes behind the spectacles. There was cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from Dumbledore as though he were giving off burning heat.

He stepped into the office, placed a foot underneath Moody's unconscious body, and kicked him over onto his back, so that his face was visible. Snape followed him, looking into the Foe-Glass, where his own face was still visible, glaring into the room. Professor McGonagall went straight to Harry.

"Come along, Potter," she whispered. The thin line of her mouth was twitching as though she was about to cry. "Come along… hospital wing…"

"No," said Dumbledore sharply.

"Dumbledore, he ought to - look at him - he's been through enough tonight -"

"He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand," said Dumbledore curtly.

"Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. He needs to know who has put him through the ordeal he has suffered tonight, and why. Young, Miss Black knew all along, only a memory charm keeping it at bay but she figured it out again. We'll have to tell her his identity however."

"Moody," Harry said. He was still in a state of complete disbelief. "How can it have been Moody?"

"This is not Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore quietly. "You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from Remus after what happened tonight. The moment he took you, Remus knew - and he came to me."

Dumbledore bent down over Moody's limp form and put a hand inside his robes. He pulled out Moody's hip flask and a set of keys on a ring. Then he turned to Professors McGonagall and Snape.

"Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Minerva, kindly go down to the hospital wing and make sure that both Blacks are aware that Harry is fine and that Remus's prediction was true."

If either Snape or McGonagall found these instructions peculiar, they hid their confusion. Both turned at once and left the office. Dumbledore walked over to the trunk with seven locks, fitted the first key in the lock, and opened it. It contained a mass of spell-books. Dumbledore closed the trunk, placed a second key in the second lock, and opened the trunk again. The spellbooks had vanished; this time it contained an assortment of broken Sneako-scopes, some parchment and quills, and what looked like a silvery Invisibility Cloak. Harry watched, astounded, as Dumbledore placed the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth keys in their respective locks, reopening the trunk each time, and revealing different contents each time. Then he placed the seventh key in the lock, threw open the lid, and Harry let out a cry of amazement.

He was looking down into a kind of pit, an underground room, and lying on the floor some ten feet below, apparently fast asleep, thin and starved in appearance, was the real Mad-Eye Moody.

His wooden leg was gone, the socket that should have held the magical eye looked empty beneath its lid, and chunks of his grizzled hair were missing. Harry stared, thunderstruck, between the sleeping Moody in the trunk and the unconscious Moody lying on the floor of the office.

Dumbledore climbed into the trunk, lowered himself, and fell lightly onto the floor beside the sleeping Moody. He bent over him.

"Stunned - controlled by the Imperius Curse - very weak," he said. "Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive. Harry, throw down the imposter's cloak - he's freezing. Madam Pomfrey will need to see him, but he seems in no immediate danger."

Harry did as he was told; Dumbledore covered Moody in the cloak, tucked it around him, and clambered out of the trunk again. Then he picked up the hip flask that stood upon the desk, unscrewed it, and turned it over. A thick glutinous liquid splattered onto the office floor.

"Polyjuice Potion, Harry," said Dumbledore. "You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never does drink except from his hip flask, he's well known for it. The imposter needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so that he could continue making the potion. You see his hair…" Dumbledore looked down on the Moody in the trunk. "The imposter has been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done… on the hour… every hour… We shall see."

Dumbledore pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down upon it, his eyes fixed upon the unconscious Moody on the floor. Harry stared at him too. Minutes passed in silence…

Then, before Harry's very eyes, the face of the man on the floor began to change. The scars were disappearing, the skin was becoming smooth; the mangled nose became whole and started to shrink. The long mane of grizzled gray hair was withdrawing into the scalp and turning the color of straw. Suddenly, with a loud clunk, the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg regrew in its place; next moment, the magical eyeball had popped out of the man's face as a real eye replaced it; it rolled away across the floor and continued to swivel in every direction.

Harry saw a man lying before him, pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of fair hair. He knew who he was. He had seen him in Dumbledore's Pensieve, had watched him being led away from court by the dementors, trying to convince Mr. Crouch that he was innocent… but he was lined around the eyes now and looked much older…

There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. Snape had returned with Winky at his heels. Professor McGonagall was right behind them.

"Crouch!" Snape said, stopping dead in the doorway. "Barty Crouch!"

"Good heavens," said Professor McGonagall, stopping dead and staring down at the man on the floor.

Filthy, disheveled, Winky peered around Snape's legs. Her mouth opened wide and she let out a piercing shriek.

"Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?"

She flung herself forward onto the young man's chest.

"You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master's son!"

"He is simply Stunned, Winky," said Dumbledore. "Step aside, please. Severus, you have the potion?"

Snape handed Dumbledore a small glass bottle of completely clear liquid: the Veritaserum with which he had threatened Harry in class. Dumbledore got up, bent over the man on the floor, and pulled him into a sitting position against the wall beneath the Foe-Glass, in which the reflections of Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall were still glaring down upon them all. Winky remained on her knees, trembling, her hands over her face. Dumbledore forced the man's mouth open and poured three drops inside it. Then he pointed his wand at the man's chest and said, "Ennervate."

Crouch's son opened his eyes. His face was slack, his gaze unfocused.

Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level.

"Can you hear me?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

The man's eyelids flickered.

"Yes," he muttered.

"I would like you to tell us," said Dumbledore softly, "how you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?"

Crouch took a deep, shuddering breath, then began to speak in a flat, expressionless voice. "My mother saved me. She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance."

Winky was shaking her head, trembling.

"Say no more. Master Barty, say no more, you is getting your father into trouble!"

But Crouch took another deep breath and continued in the same flat voice.

"The dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors.

"My mother died a short while afterward in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me."

The man's eyelids flickered.

"And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house-elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed. I had to be controlled. My father had to use a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master… of returning to his service."

"How did your father subdue you?" said Dumbledore.

"The Imperius Curse," Moody said.

"I was under my father's control. I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf. She was my keeper and caretaker. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behavior."

"Master Barty, Master Barty," sobbed Winky through her hands. "You isn't ought to tell them, we is getting in trouble…"

"Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?" said Dumbledore softly. "Did anyone know except your father and the house-elf?"

"Yes," said Crouch, his eyelids flickering again. "A witch in my father's office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with papers for my father's signature. He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she'd found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her memory permanently."

"Why is she coming to nose into my masters private business?" sobbed Winky. "Why isn't she leaving us be?"

"Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup," said Dumbledore.

"Winky talked my father into it," said Crouch, still in the same monotonous voice. "She spent months persuading him. I had not left the house for years. I had loved Quidditch. Let him go, she said. He will be in his Invisibility Cloak. He can watch. Let him smell fresh air for once. She said my mother would have wanted it. She told my father that my mother had died to give me freedom. She had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. He agreed in the end.

"It was carefully planned. My father led me and Winky up to the Top Box early in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was to sit there, invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge. Winky would appear to be alone. Nobody would ever know.

"But Winky didn't know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight my father's Imperius Curse. There were times when I was almost myself again. There were brief periods when I seemed outside his control. It happened, there, in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw, in front of me, a wand sticking out of a girl's pocket. I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it. Winky didn't know. Winky is frightened of heights. She had her face hidden."

"Master Barty, you bad boy!" whispered Winky, tears trickling between her fingers.

"So you took the wand," said Dumbledore, "and what did you do with it?"

"We went back to the tent," said Crouch. "Then we heard them. We heard the Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never suffered for my master. They had turned their backs on him. They were not enslaved, as I was. They were free to seek him, but they did not. They were merely making sport of Muggles. The sound of their voices awoke me. My mind was clearer than it had been in years. I was angry. I had the wand. I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty to my master. My father had left the tent; he had gone to free the Muggles. Winky was afraid to see me so angry. I knew I didn't have much time left when the Muggles were suddenly taken down, I made to leave. She used her own brand of magic to bind me to her. She pulled me from the tent, pulled me into the forest, away from the Death Eaters. I tried to hold her back. I wanted to return to the campsite. I wanted to show those Death Eaters what loyalty to the Dark Lord meant, and to punish them for their lack of it. I used the stolen wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky. Ministry wizards arrived. They shot Stunning Spells everywhere. One of the spells came through the trees where Winky and I stood. The bond connecting us was broken. We were both Stunned. When Winky was discovered, my father knew I must be nearby. He searched the bushes where she had been found and felt me lying there. He waited until the other Ministry members had left the forest. He put me back under the Imperius Curse and took me home. He dismissed Winky. She had failed him. She had let me acquire a wand. She had almost let me escape."

Winky let out a wail of despair.

"Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then… and then…"

Crouch's head rolled on his neck, and an insane grin spread across his face. "My master came for me.

"He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail. My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant - perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door."

The smile spread wider over Crouch's face, as though recalling the sweetest memory of his life.

Winky's petrified brown eyes were visible through her fingers. She seemed too appalled to speak.

"It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master. Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to go about his business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years.

"And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?" said Dumbledore.

"He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first -"

"You needed Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were blazing, though his voice remained calm.

"Wormtail and I did it. We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We managed to subdue him just in time. Forced him into a compartment of his own magical trunk. Took some of his hair and added it to the potion. I drank it; I became Moody's double. I took his leg and his eye. I was ready to face Arthur Weasley when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. I made the dustbins move around the yard. I told Arthur Weasley I had heard intruders in my yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then I packed up Moody's clothes and Dark detectors, put them in the trunk with Moody, and set off for Hogwarts. I kept him alive, under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to question him. To find out about his past, learn his habits, so that I could fool even Dumbledore. I also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. I stole boom-slang skin from the dungeons. When the Potions master found me in his office, I said I was under orders to search it."

"And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?" said Dumbledore.

"Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father."

"But your father escaped," said Dumbledore.

"Yes. After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had done. There were periods when he knew what was happening. My master decided it was no longer safe for my father to leave the house. He forced him to send letters to the Ministry instead. He made him write and say he was ill. But Wormtail neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master guessed that he was heading for Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore everything, to confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban.

"My master sent me word of my father's escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter. The map that had almost ruined everything."

"Map?" said Dumbledore quickly. "What map is this?"

"Potter's map of Hogwarts. Potter saw me on it. Potter saw me stealing more ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion from Snape's office one night. He thought I was my father. We have the same first name. I took the map from Potter that night. I told him my father hated Dark wizards. Potter believed my father was after Snape. For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak and went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter came, and Krum. I waited. I could not hurt Potter; my master needed him. Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I Stunned Krum. I killed my father."

"Noooo!" wailed Winky. "Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you saying?"

"You killed your father," Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice. "What did you do with the body?"

"Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I had the map with me. I watched Potter run into the castle. He met Snape. Dumbledore joined them. I watched Potter bringing Dumbledore out of the castle. I walked back out of the forest, doubled around behind them, went to meet them. I told Dumbledore Snape had told me where to come. Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father's body. Watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father's body. He became a bone… I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's cabin."

There was complete silence now, except for Winky's continued sobs. Then Dumbledore said, "And tonight…"

"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," whispered Barty Crouch. "Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards."

The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his shoulder as Winky wailed and sobbed at his side.

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Hope you guys liked that, hope for some reviews ^-^

Hisagi-Tan out~


	28. Chapter 28

I'm sorry it took so long for me to hurry up with the story, this is the second to last chapter of book four, hope you guys enjoy.

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Dumbledore stood up. He stared down at Barty Crouch for a moment with disgust on his face. Then he raised his wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes that twisted themselves around Barty Crouch, binding him tightly. He turned to Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry upstairs?"

"Of course," said Professor McGonagall. She looked slightly nauseous, as though she had just watched someone being sick. However, when she drew out her wand and pointed it at Barty Crouch, her hand was quite steady.

"Severus" - Dumbledore turned to Snape," please tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here; we need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in half an hour's time if he needs me."

Snape nodded silently and swept out of the room.

"Harry?" Dumbledore said gently.

Harry got up and swayed again; the pain in his leg, which he had not noticed all the time he had been listening to Crouch, now returned in full measure. He also realized that he was shaking. Dumbledore gripped his arm and helped him out into the dark corridor.

"I want you to come up to my office first. Harry," he said quietly as they headed up the passageway. "Remus is waiting for us."

Harry nodded. A kind of numbness and a sense of complete unreality were upon him, but he did not care; he was even glad of it. He didn't want to have to think about anything that had happened since he had first touched the Triwizard Cup. He didn't want to have to examine the memories, fresh and sharp as photographs, which kept flashing across his mind. Mad-Eye Moody, inside the trunk. Wormtail, slumped on the ground, cradling his stump of an arm. Voldemort, rising from the steaming cauldron. James…Dead…James…Alive…James…Screaming in pain…

"Professor," Harry mumbled, "Where are Sirius and James?"

"They are in the Hospital Wing, James is resting and Sirius is guarding," said Dumbledore. His voice, which had been so calm throughout the interrogation of Barty Crouch, shook very slightly for the first time. "Miss Black put her life on the line for you; don't count her out yet my boy."

They had reached the stone gargoyle. Dumbledore gave the password, it sprang aside, and he and Harry went up the moving spiral staircase to the oak door. Dumbledore pushed it open. Remus was standing there. His face was white and gaunt as it had been when he finished a full moon. In one swift moment, he had crossed the room.

"Harry, are you all right? I knew it - I knew something like this - what happened?" His hands shook as he helped Harry into a chair in front of the desk.

"What happened?" he asked more urgently.

Dumbledore began to tell Remus everything Barty Crouch had said. Harry was only half listening. So tired every bone in his body was aching, he wanted nothing more than to sit here, undisturbed, for hours and hours, until he fell asleep and didn't have to think or feel anymore.

There was a soft rush of wings. Fawkes the phoenix had left his perch, flown across the office, and landed on Harry's knee.

"'Lo, Fawkes," said Harry quietly. He stroked the phoenix's beautiful scarlet-and-gold plumage. Fawkes blinked peacefully up at him. There was something comforting about his warm weight.

Dumbledore stopped talking. He sat down opposite Harry, behind his desk. He was looking at Harry, who avoided his eyes. Dumbledore was going to question him. He was going to make Harry relive everything.

"I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze. Harry," said Dumbledore.

"We can leave that till morning, can't we, Dumbledore?" said Remus harshly. He had put a hand on Harrys shoulder. "Let him have a sleep. Let him rest."

Harry felt a rush of gratitude toward Remus, but Dumbledore took no notice of Remus's words. He leaned forward toward Harry.

Very unwillingly, Harry raised his head and looked into those blue eyes.

"If I thought I could help you," Dumbledore said gently, "by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened."

The phoenix let out one soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and Harry felt as though a drop of hot liquid had slipped down his throat into his stomach, warming him, and strengthening him.

He took a deep breath and began to tell them. As he spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before his eyes; he saw the sparkling surface of the potion that had revived Voldemort; he saw the Death Eaters Apparating between the graves around them; he saw James's body, lying on the ground beside the cup.

Once or twice, Remus made a noise as though about to say something, his hand still tight on Harry's shoulder, but Dumbledore raised his hand to stop him, and Harry was glad of this, because it was easier to keep going now he had started. It was even a relief; he felt almost as though something poisonous were being extracted from him. It was costing him every bit of determination he had to keep talking, yet he sensed that once he had finished, he would feel better.

When Harry told of Wormtail piercing his arm with the dagger, however, Remus let out a vehement exclamation and Dumbledore stood up so quickly that Harry started. Dumbledore walked around the desk and told Harry to stretch out his arm. Harry showed them both the place where his robes were torn and the cut beneath them.

"He said my blood would make him stronger than if he'd used someone else's," Harry told Dumbledore. "He said the protection my - my mother left in me - he'd have it too. And he was right - he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face."

For a fleeting instant, Harry thought he saw a gleam of something like triumph in Dumbledore's eyes. But next second. Harry was sure he had imagined it, for when Dumbledore had returned to his seat behind the desk, he looked as old and weary as Harry had ever seen him.

"Very well," he said, sitting down again. "Voldemort has overcome that particular barrier. Harry, continue, please."

Harry went on; he explained how Voldemort had emerged from the cauldron, and told them all he could remember of Voldemort's speech to the Death Eaters. Then he told how James had snuck her way to him, not breathing a word of her fox form, and had taken a Crucio for him, blasting the snake that was around his feet away and begging him to leave, ending up next to Hermione who had screamed at his sudden appearance.

"That stupid idiotic girl." Remus hissed lightly but Harry heard the pride in his voice. He himself could feel the pride as well. Harry suddenly became aware that Fawkes had left his knee. The phoenix had fluttered to the floor. It was resting its beautiful head against Harry's injured leg, and thick, pearly tears were falling from its eyes onto the wound left by the spider. The pain vanished. The skin mended. His leg was repaired.

"I will say it again," said Dumbledore as the phoenix rose into the air and resettled itself upon the perch beside the door. "You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight. Harry. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard's burden and found yourself equal to it - and you have now given us all we have a right to expect. You will come with me to the hospital wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. A Sleeping Potion, and some peace . . . Remus, would you like to stay with him?"

Remus nodded and wrapped an arm around Harry as they walked out of the office, accompanying them down a flight of stairs to the hospital wing.

When Dumbledore pushed open the door. Harry saw Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione grouped around a harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey. They appeared to be demanding to know where Harry was and what had happened to him. All of them whipped around as Harry, Dumbledore, and the Remus, and Mrs. Weasley let out a kind of muffled scream.

"Harry! Oh Harry!"

She started to hurry toward him, but Dumbledore moved between them.

"Molly," he said, holding up a hand, "please listen to me for a moment. Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to relive it for me. What he needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If he would like you all to stay with him," he added, looking around at Ron, Hermione, and Bill too, "you may do so. But I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. She was very white. She rounded on Ron, Hermione, and Bill as though they were being noisy, and hissed, "Did you hear? He needs quiet!"

Harry felt an inexpressible sense of gratitude to Dumbledore for asking the others not to question him. It wasn't as though he didn't want them there; but the thought of explaining it all over again, the idea of reliving it one more time, was more than he could stand. He saw Sirius look too him and look towards Remus who nodded before focusing on James still form in her own bed, the twins on either side of the bed both looking to scared to touch her. Draco and Blaise were near tears as they smoothed out her hair and held her hands.

"I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I would like you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school." He left.

As Madam Pomfrey led Harry to a nearby bed, he caught sight of the real Moody lying motionless in a bed at the far end of the room. His wooden leg and magical eye were lying on the bedside table.

"Is he and James okay?" Harry asked.

"He'll be fine and James…She will heal in time, dear," said Madam Pomfrey, giving Harry some pajamas and pulling screens around him. He took off his robes, pulled on the pajamas, and got into bed. Ron, Hermione, Bill, Mrs. Weasley, and Remus came around the screen and settled themselves in chairs on either side of him. Ron and Hermione were looking at him almost cautiously, as though scared of him.

"I'm all right," he told them. "Just tired."

Mrs. Weasleys eyes filled with tears as she smoothed his bed-covers unnecessarily.

Madam Pomfrey, who had bustled off to her office, returned holding a small bottle of some purple potion and a goblet.

"You'll need to drink all of this. Harry," she said. "It's a potion for dreamless sleep."

Harry took the goblet and drank a few mouthfuls. He felt himself becoming drowsy at once. Everything around him became hazy; the lamps around the hospital wing seemed to be winking at him in a friendly way through the screen around his bed; his body felt as though it was sinking deeper into the warmth of the feather mattress. Before he could finish the potion, before he could say another word, his exhaustion had carried him off to sleep.

James woke up, so warm, so very sleepy, that she didn't open her eyes, wanting to drop off again. The room was still dimly lit; she was sure it was still nighttime and had a feeling that she couldn't have been asleep very long.

Then she heard whispering around her.

"They'll wake them if they don't shut up!"

"What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?"

She opened her eyes blearily. She could see the outlines of Sirius, Remus, Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Fred who was sleeping his head on her bed, her hand in his grasp.

"That's Fudge's voice," Mrs. Weasley whispered. "And that's Minerva McGonagall's, isn't it? But what are they arguing about?"

Now James could hear them too: people shouting and running toward the hospital wing.

"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva -" Cornelius Fudge was saying loudly.

"You should never have brought it inside the castle!" yelled Professor McGonagall. "When Dumbledore finds out -"

James heard the hospital doors burst open. Unnoticed by any of the people around her bed, all of whom were staring at the door as Bill pulled back the screens, James, Harry and Fred sat up.

Fudge came striding up the ward. Professors McGonagall and Snape were at his heels.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demanded of Mrs. Weasley.

"He's not here," said Sirius furious startling Fudge. "This is a hospital wing. Fudge and you better not ever demand anything of a woman in front of me or so help me-"

But the door opened, and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.

"What has happened?" said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to Professor McGonagall.

"Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you - I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch -"

"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumble-dore!" she shrieked. "The Minister has seen to that!"

James had never seen Professor McGonagall lose control like this. There were angry blotches of color in her cheeks, and a hands were balled into fists; she was trembling with fury.

"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," said Snape, in a low voice; he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question, "He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch -"

"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" McGonagall fumed. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but -"

"My dear woman!" roared Fudge shooting Sirius a strained glance who growled lowly, who likewise looked angrier than James had ever seen him, "as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous -"

But Professor McGonagall's voice drowned Fudge's.

"The moment that - that thing entered the room," she screamed, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over, "it swooped down on Crouch and - and -"

James felt a chill in her stomach as Professor McGonagall struggled to find words to describe what had happened. She did not need her to finish her sentence. She knew what the dementor must have done. It had administered its fatal kiss to Barty Crouch. It had sucked his soul out through his mouth. He was worse than dead.

"By all accounts, he is no loss!" blustered Fudge. "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths."

"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," said Dumbledore. He was staring hard at Fudge, as though seeing him plainly for the first time. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."

"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" blustered Fudge. "He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"

"Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "Those peoples deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."

Fudge looked as though someone had just swung a heavy weight into his face. Dazed and blinking, he stared back at Dumbledore as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. He began to sputter, still goggling at Dumbledore.

"You-Know-Who . . . returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore ..."

"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you," said Dumbledore, "we heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort - learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins -went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."

"See here, Dumbledore," said Fudge, and James was astonished to see a slight smile dawning on his face, "you - you can't seriously believe that You-Know-Who - back? Come now, come now . . . certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders - but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore ..."

"When Harry and James touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, They were transported straight to Voldemort,"said Dumbledore steadily. "They witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office."

Dumbledore glanced around at Harry, James, and Fred seeing them awake, but shook his head and said, "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry or James tonight."

Fudge's curious smile lingered. He too glanced at them, then looked back at Dumbledore, and said, "You are - er - prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?"

There was a moment's silence, which was broken by Sirius's and Remus's growls. Both men looked ready to lunge at the Minister.

"Certainly, I believe Harry," said Dumbledore. His eyes were blazing now. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."

Fudge still had that strange smile on his face. Once again, he glanced at them before answering.

"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who . . . well..."

Fudge shot Harry another look, and Harry suddenly understood.

"You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge," James accused icily and Fudge seemed to shudder at the twin glares from the two Blacks.

Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Remus, and Bill all jumped. None of them had realized that they were awake.

Fudge reddened slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look came over his face.

"And if I have?" he said, looking at Dumbledore. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place -"

"I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" said Dumbledore coolly.

"You admit that he has been having these pains, then?" said Fudge quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly - hallucinations?"

"He's fishing for information." Fred stated coldly and James shook her head slowly.

"Listen to me, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, taking a step toward Fudge, and once again, he seemed to radiate that indefinable sense of power that Harry had felt after Dumbledore had stunned young Crouch. "Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."

Fudge had taken half a step back from Dumbledore, but he looked no less stubborn.

"You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before. ..."

"Look, I saw Voldemort come back." James snapped. She tried to get out of bed, but Fred forced her back gently. "I saw the Death Eaters. I dare you to accuse me of lying."

"You fool!" Professor McGonagall cried. "Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"

"I see no evidence to the contrary!" shouted Fudge, now matching her anger, his face purpling. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years."

James couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had always thought of Fudge as a kindly figure, a little blustering, a little pompous, but essentially good-natured. But now a short, angry wizard stood before them, refusing, point-blank, to accept the prospect of disruption in his comfortable and ordered world, to believe that Voldemort could have risen.

"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. "If you accept that fact straightaway. Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors -"

"Preposterous!" shouted Fudge again. "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"

"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" said Dumbledore. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"

Fudge was opening and closing his mouth as though no words could express his outrage.

"The second step you must take - and at once," Dumbledore pressed on, "is to send envoys to the giants."

"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge shrieked, finding his tongue again. "What madness is this?"

"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late," said Dumbledore, "or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"

"You - you cannot be serious!" Fudge gasped, shaking his head and retreating further from Dumbledore. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants -people hate them, Dumbledore - end of my career -"

"You are blinded," said Dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, his eyes blazing once more, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any - and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now-take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act - and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"

"Insane," whispered Fudge, still backing away. "Mad . . ."

And then there was silence. Madam Pomfrey was standing frozen at the foot of Harry's bed, her hands over her mouth. was still standing over Harry, her hand on his shoulder to prevent him from rising. Bill, Ron, and Hermione were staring at Fudge.

"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, "we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I - I shall act as I see fit."

Dumbledore's voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but Fudge bristled as though Dumbledore were advancing upon him with a wand.

"Now, see here, Dumbledore," he said, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me -"

"The only one against whom I intend to work," said Dumbledore, "is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."

It seemed Fudge could think of no answer to this. He rocked backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spun his bowler hat in his hands. Finally, he said, with a hint of a plea in his voice, "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be ..."

Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.

"There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff s too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Fudge stepped back from Snape too. He was shaking his head. He did not seem to have taken in a word Snape had said. He stared, apparently repelled by the ugly mark on Snape's arm, then looked up at Dumbledore and whispered, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."

He had almost reached the door when he paused. He turned around, strode back down the dormitory, and stopped at Harry's bed.

"Your winnings," he said shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and dropping it onto Harrys bedside table and then one of James's. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances .. ."

"We shall see how the next meeting goes Fudge," Sirius spoke his voice cold and acidic and Fudge seemed to squirm but he straightened stubbornly.

He crammed his bowler hat onto his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to look at the group around Harry's and James's bed.

"There is work to be done," he said. "Molly... am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"

"Of course you can," said Mrs. Weasley. She was white to the lips, but she looked resolute. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper wizarding pride."

"Then I need to send a message to Arthur," said Dumbledore. "All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."

"I'll go to Dad," said Bill, standing up. "I'll go now."

"Excellent," said Dumbledore. "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry –"

"Leave it to me," said Bill.

He clapped a hand on Harry's and James's shoulders, kissed his mother on the cheek, pulled on his cloak, and strode quickly from the room.

"Minerva," said Dumbledore, turning to Professor McGonagall, "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also - if she will consent to come - Madame Maxime."

Professor McGonagall nodded and left without a word.

"Poppy," Dumbledore said to Madam Pomfrey, "would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moodys office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."

"Very - very well," said Madam Pomfrey, looking startled, and she too left.

Dumbledore made sure that the door was closed, and that Madam Pomfrey's footsteps had died away, before he spoke again.

"Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher - the old crowd."

Sirius kissed James nose with a childish grin trying to cheer up his daughter, holding her close breathing in her scent. He took hold of Harry next and kissed his head taking in his scent as well before he nodded at the adults and other teens before leaving.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready . . . if you are prepared ..."

"I am," said Snape.

He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

"Then good luck," said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.

"Remus, you know your own mission, we cannot let Voldemort get to the werewolves once again, Greyback is a lost cause however." Dumbledore stated and Remus hugged James, Harry, and ruffled Draco and Blaise's hair before leaving.

It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.

"I must go downstairs," he said finally. "I must see the School. Harry, James - take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later."

James slumped back against her pillows as Dumbledore disappeared. Fred, Draco, and Blaise were all looking at her. None of them spoke for a very long time.

"You've got to take the rest of your potion. Harry, James," Mrs. Weasley said at last. Her hand nudged the sack of gold on his bedside cabinet as she reached for the bottle and the goblet. Fred took James own and fed it to her slowly. "You have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while…think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"

"I don't want that gold," said Harry in an expressionless voice.

"Shop…" James murmured as the potion took affect and Fred caressed her face with a smile kissing her forehead. Harry drank his own potion eyeing James like she was a ghost before he fell asleep as well.

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Well that's it folks! Review please!

Hisagi-Tan out~


	29. Chapter 29

The last chapter of Book Four…KrisxCross wanted me to tell you guys that she wants to thank everyone who's been a follower since the beginning even when she lost faith. I want to thank you as well.

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When she looked back, even a month later, James found she had only scattered memories of the next few days. It was as though she had been through too much to take in any more.

The recollections she did have were very painful. The worst, perhaps, was the meeting with the Gryffindor common room swarming her, screaming she was alive, and the Twins being a barrier between her and the crowd.

Most people, she noticed, were skirting her and Harry in the corridors, avoiding Harry's eyes. Some whispered behind their hands as she passed.

She guessed that many of them had believed Rita Skeeter's article about how disturbed and possibly dangerous Harry was. Perhaps they were formulating their own theories about how She had almost died. She found she didn't care very much. Harry liked it best when he was with Ron and Hermione and they were talking about other things, or else letting him sit in silence while they played chess.

Fred and George were insanely over protective and coupled with Draco, Blaise, and Theodore on some occasions James was ready to curse them all. However when Fred and James were alone Fred was very touchy, so she knew he was still accepting the fact she was still here, alive and well. Hogwarts - and that it was useless to speculate about what might be coming until they knew anything for certain.

The only person apart from Ron, James, and Hermione that Harry felt able to talk to was Hagrid.

As there was no longer a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, they had those lessons free. They used the one on Thursday afternoon to go down and visit Hagrid in his cabin.

It was a bright and sunny day; Fang bounded out of the open door as they approached, barking and wagging his tail madly.

"James! Female! Pet me, now!" Fang barked spotting James and ran towards her, nuzzling under her hand, she hugged him tightly and Fang licked her cheek.

"Who's that?" called Hagrid, coming to the door. "James, glad tah see yah about! Harry, how yah doin?"

He strode out to meet them, pulled Harry into a one-armed hug, ruffled his hair, before pulling James into a long hug all the while saying, "Good ter see yeh, mate. Good ter see yeh."

They saw two bucket-size cups and saucers on the wooden table in front of the fireplace when they entered Hagrid's cabin.

"Bin havin' a cuppa with Olympe," Hagrid said. "She's jus' left."

"Who?" said Ron curiously.

"Madame Maxime, o' course!" said Hagrid.

"You two made up, have you?" said Ron.

"Dunno what yeh're talkin' about," said Hagrid airily, fetching more cups from the dresser. When he had made tea and offered around a plate of doughy cookies, he leaned back in his chair and surveyed James and Harry closely through his beetle-black eyes.

"You all righ'?" he said gruffly

"Yeah," said Harry and James nodded lightly petting Fang.

"No, yeh're not," said Hagrid. "Course yeh're not. But yeh will be."

"Knew he was goin' ter come back," said Hagrid, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up at him, shocked. "Known it fer years. Knew he was out there, bidin' his time. It had ter happen. Well, now it has, an' we'll jus' have ter get on with it. We'll fight. Migh' be able ter stop him before he gets a good hold. That's Dumbledores plan, anyway. Great man, Dumbledore. 'S long as we've got him, I'm not too worried." Hagrid raised his bushy eyebrows at the disbelieving expressions on their faces.

"No good sittin' worryin' abou' it," he said. "What's comin' will come, an we'll meet it when it does. Dumbledore told me wha' you did. James, Harry."

Hagrid's chest swelled as he looked at Harry.

"Yeh did as much as yer father would've done, an' I can' give yeh no higher praise than that."

His eyes flickered to James and he smiled softly at her.

"Yeh did wha yer father did for his brother, he mus be ratha proud of yah." Hagrid stated and James was brought back to her memory back in second year but pushed it away giving Hagrid a polite smile.

Harry smiled back at him. It was the first time he'd smiled in days. "What's Dumbledore asked you to do, Hagrid?" he asked. "He sent Professor McGonagall to ask you and Madame Maxime to meet him - that night.

"Got a little job fer me over the summer," said Hagrid. "Secret, though. I'm not s'pposed ter talk abou' it, no, not even ter you lot. Olympe - Madame Maxime ter you -might be comin' with me. I think she will. Think I got her persuaded."

Hagrid flinched at the sound of the name.

"Migh' be," he said evasively. "Now . . . who'd like ter come an' visit the las' skrewt with me? I was jokin' - jokin'!" he added hastily, seeing the looks on their faces.

It was with a relieved heart that James packed her trunk up in the dormitory on the night before her return to Grimwauld. She however was dreading the Leaving Feast, which was usually a cause for celebration, when the winner of the Inter-House Championship would be announced. She had avoided being in the Great Hall when it was full ever since she had left the hospital wing, preferring to eat when it was nearly empty to avoid the stares of her fellow students.

When she, Harry, Fred, George, Draco, Blaise, Ron, and Hermione entered the Hall, they saw at once that the usual decorations were missing. The Great Hall was normally decorated with the winning House's colors for the Leaving Feast. Tonight, however, there were black drapes on the wall behind the teachers' table. Harry knew instantly that they were there as a mark of respect to all those who died.

The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. James couldn't blame him; Moody's fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk. Professor Karkaroff s chair was empty. James wondered, as she sat down with the other Gryffindors, where Karkaroff was now, and whether Voldemort had caught up with him.

Madame Maxime was still there. She was sitting next to Hagrid. They were talking quietly together. Further along the table, sitting next to Professor McGonagall, was Snape. His eyes lingered on James for a moment as James looked at him. His expression was difficult to read. He looked as sour and unpleasant as ever. James continued to watch him, long after Snape had looked away.

What was it that Snape had done on Dumbledores orders, the night that Voldemort had returned? And why. . . why . . . was Dumbledore so convinced that Snape was truly on their side? He had been their spy, Dumbledore had said so in the Pensieve. Snape had turned spy against Voldemort, "at great personal risk." Was that the job he had taken up again? Had he made contact with the Death Eaters, perhaps? Pretended that he had never really gone over to Dumbledore, that he had been, like Voldemort himself, biding his time?

James's musings were ended by Professor Dumbledore, who stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the Leaving Feast, became very quiet.

"The end," said Dumbledore, looking around at them all, "of another year."

He paused, and his eyes fell upon the Gryffindor table. Theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the Hall.

"There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, "but I must first acknowledge the near loss of a very fine person, who is sitting here with us tonight," he gestured toward the Gryffindor, "enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to James Black."

They did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the Hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "James Black."

James caught a glimpse of Rodger through the crowd. There was a serious look on his face. She looked down at the table as they all sat down again.

"James is a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Gryffindor house," Dumbledore continued. "She is a good and loyal friend, a brave girl, she valued other's lives before her own. Her close call to death has affected you all, whether you knew her well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."

James raised her head along with Harry and stared at Dumbledore.

"James Black was hit by the killing curse by Lord Voldemort."

A panicked whisper swept the Great Hall. People were staring at Dumbledore in disbelief and at James in horror. Dumbledore looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence. James on the other hand buried her head into Fred's side who allowed it, petting her head softly.

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so - either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that James almost died at the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of her own, is an insult to her."

Stunned and frightened, every face in the Hall was turned toward Dumbledore now... or almost every face. Over at the Slytherin table. James saw Pansy Parkinson muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle. James felt a hot, sick swoop of anger in her stomach. She forced herself to look back at Dumbledore.

"There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with James's near death," Dumbledore went on, "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."

A kind of ripple crossed the Great Hall as a few heads turned in Harry's direction before flicking back to face Dumbledore.

"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "Thanks to his cousin's brave sacrifice and gift, they have both shown bravery beyond their years and I honor them."

Dumbledore turned gravely to them and raised his goblet once more. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit. They murmured his name, as they had murmured James's, and drank to him. But through a gap in the standing figures. James saw that Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and many of the other Slytherins had remained defiantly in their seats, their goblets untouched. Dumbledore, who after all possessed no magical eye, did not see them.

When everyone had once again resumed their seats, Dumbledore continued, "The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened - of Lord Voldemorts return - such ties are more important than ever before."

Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Viktor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, James saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Dumbledore to say something harsh.

"Every guest in this Hall," said Dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the Durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again - in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemorts gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open. It is my belief- and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken - that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was almost taken from our midst. Remember James, when she appeared on the grass her body motionless. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember James Black as her father cried and held her to him tightly in desperation."

James's trunk was packed. She, Fred, and George were waiting in the crowded entrance hall with the rest of the other years for the carriages that would take them back to Hogsmeade station. It was another beautiful summer's day.

"'Arry!"

James looked around. Fleur Delacour was hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Beyond her, far across the grounds. James could see Hagrid helping Madame Maxime to back two of the giant horses into their harness. The Beauxbatons carriage was about to take off.

"We will see each uzzer again, I 'ope," said Fleur as she reached Harry holding out her hand. "I am 'oping to get a job 'ere, to improve my Eenglish."

"It's very good already," said Ron in a strangled sort of voice. Fleur smiled at him; Hermione scowled.

"Good-bye, 'Arry," said Fleur, turning to go. "It 'az been a pleasure meeting you!"

Harry's spirits couldn't help but lift slightly as he watched Fleur hurry back across the lawns to Madame Maxime, her silvery hair rippling in the sunlight.

Wonder how the Durmstrang students are getting back," said Ron. "D' you reckon they can steer that ship without Karkaroff?"

"Karkaroff did not steer," said a gruff voice. "He stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork."

Krum had come to say good-bye to Hermione and James. "Could I have a vord?" he asked Hermione after kissing James on the head and hugging her in a older brother way, glaring at Fred only slightly who nodded back.

"Oh…yes...all right," said Hermione, looking slightly flustered, and following Krum through the crowd and out of sight.

"You'd better hurry up!" Ron called loudly after her. "The carriages'll be here in a minute!"

James let George keep a watch for the carriages, however, and spent the next few minutes cuddling against Fred who was talking to Lee who was gazing down at James with a soft expression as Viktor had done.

They returned quite soon. Ron stared at Hermione, but her face was quite impassive.

"You are my vavoright," said Krum abruptly to James. "You vos alvays polite to me. Alvays. Even though I vos from Durmstrang - with Karkaroff," he added, scowling.

"Have you got a new headmaster yet?" said Harry Krum shrugged. He held out his hand as Fleur had done, shook Harry's hand, and then Ron's. Ron looked as though he was suffering some sort of painful internal struggle.

Krum had already started walking away after shaking hands with George and Fred when Ron burst out, "Can I have your autograph?"

Hermione turned away, smiling at the horseless carriages that were now trundling toward them up the drive, as Krum, looking surprised but gratified, signed a fragment of parchment for Ron.

The weather could not have been more different on the journey back to King's Cross than it had been on their way to Hogwarts the previous September. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky. James, Fred, George, and Lee had managed to get a compartment to themselves.

Fred, Lee, and George talked more fully and freely than they had all week as the train sped them southward; James stared out the window her eyes softly closing as she thought. James felt as though Dumbledore's speech at the Leaving Feast had unblocked her, somehow. It was less painful to discuss what had happened now. They broke off their conversation about what action Dumbledore might be taking, even now, to stop Voldemort only when the lunch trolley arrived.

When Lee returned from the trolley and put his money back into his schoolbag, he dislodged a copy of the Daily Prophet that he had been carrying in there. James looked at it, unsure whether she really wanted to know what it might say, but Lee, seeing her looking at it, said calmly, "There's nothing in there. You can look for yourself, but there's nothing at all. I've been checking every day. Just a small piece the day after the third task saying you and Harry won the tournament. Nothing about any of it. If you ask me. Fudge is forcing them to keep quiet."

"He'll never keep Rita quiet," said James. "Not on a story like this."

"Oh, Rita hasn't written anything at all since the third task," said Hermione in an oddly constrained voice from the door catching everyone's attention. "As a matter of fact," she added, her voice now trembling slightly, "Rita Skeeter isn't going to be writing anything at all for a while. Not unless she wants me to spill the beans on her."

"What are you talking about?" asked Fred with interest.

"I found out how she was listening in on private conversations when she wasn't supposed to be coming onto the grounds," said Hermione in a rush.

James had the impression that Hermione had been dying to tell them this for days, but that she had restrained herself in light of everything else that had happened.

"How was she doing it?" asked Lee at once.

"How did you find out?" asked George, staring at her.

"Well, it was Harry, really, who gave me the idea." she said.

"Did he?" asked Fred, perplexed. "How?"

"Bugging," said Hermione happily.

"But you said they didn't work -"

"Rita is a beetle animangus…a water beetle to be precise, every heard of a fly on the wall?" James stated and then asked, she got a bemused smile from Hermione.

Hermione pulled a small sealed glass jar out from behind her back.

"You're kidding," said Lee. "You haven't... she's not..."

"Oh yes she is," said Hermione happily, brandishing the jar at them.

Inside were a few twigs and leaves and one large, fat beetle.

"That's never - you're kidding -" George whispered, lifting the jar to his eyes.

"No, I'm not," said Hermione, beaming. "I caught her on the windowsill in the hospital wing. Look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around her antennae are exactly like those foul glasses she wears."

James looked and saw that she was quite right.

"Parkinson's fist…" Fred hissed having the pieces fit.

"Exactly," said Hermione. "And Viktor pulled a beetle out of my hair after we'd had our conversation by the lake. And unless I'm very much mistaken, Rita was perched on the windowsill of the Divination class the day your scar hurt. She's been buzzing around for stories all year."

Hermione took the glass jar back from George and smiled at the beetle, which buzzed angrily against the glass. James flicked the glass and the beetle scuttled away from her.

"I've told her I'll let her out when we get back to London," said Hermione. "I've put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so she can't transform. And I've told her she's to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about people." Smiling serenely, Hermione placed the beetle back next to her.

The door of the compartment slid open.

"Very clever. Granger," said Pansy purred at them.

Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind her. All three of them looked more pleased with themselves, more arrogant and more menacing, than James had ever seen them.

"So," said Pansy slowly, advancing slightly into the compartment and looking slowly around at them, a smirk quivering on her lips. "You caught some pathetic reporter, and Potter's Dumbledore's favorite boy again. Big deal."

Her smirk widened. Crabbe and Goyle leered.

"Trying not to think about it, are we?" said Pansy softly, looking around at all three of them. "Trying to pretend it hasn't happened?"

"Get out," hissed James

She had not been this close to Pansy since she had watched her muttering to Crabbe and Goyle during Dumbledores speech about her. She could feel a kind of ringing in her ears. Her hand gripped her wand under his robes.

"You've picked the losing side, Black! I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this!" She jerked her head at Fred, Lee, George, and Hermione. "Too late now. Black! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well - second - You were almost the f-"

It was as though someone had exploded a box of fireworks within the compartment. Blinded by the blaze of the spells that had blasted from every direction, deafened by a series of bangs, James blinked and looked down at the floor.

Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all lying unconscious in the doorway. She, Lee, Fred, and Hermione were on their feet, all four of them having used a different hex. Nor were they the only ones to have done so.

"Thought we'd see what those three were up to," said Draco matter-of-factly, stepping onto Goyle and into the compartment. He had his wand out, and so did Blaise, who was careful to tread on Crabbed as he followed Draco inside. Harry and Ron moving in after them rubbing their shoes on the boys as well.

"Interesting effect," said George, looking down at Crabbe. "Who used the Furnunculus Curse?"

"Me," said Harry.

"Odd," said George lightly. "I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the decor."

Ron, Harry, and George kicked, rolled, and pushed the unconscious Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle - each of whom looked distinctly the worse for the jumble of jinxes with which they had been hit - out into the corridor, then came back into the compartment and rolled the door shut.

"Exploding Snap, anyone?" said Fred, pulling out a pack of cards.

They were halfway through their fifth game when Harry decided to ask them.

"You going to tell us, then?" he said to James. "Who you were blackmailing?"

"Oh," said George darkly. "That."

"It doesn't matter," said Fred, shaking his head impatiently. "It wasn't anything important. Not now, anyway."

"We've gotten funds elsewhere," said George, shrugging.

But Harry, Ron, Draco, Blaise, and Hermione kept on asking, and finally, Fred said, "All right, all right, if you really want to know ... it was Ludo Bagman."

"Bagman?" said Harry sharply. "Are you saying he was involved in -"

"Nah," said George gloomily. "Nothing like that. Stupid git. He wouldn't have the brains."

"Well, what, then?" said Ron.

Fred hesitated, then said, "You remember that bet we had with him at the Quidditch World Cup? About how Ireland would win, but Krum would get the Snitch?"

"Yeah," said Harry and Ron slowly.

"Well, the git paid them in leprechaun gold he'd caught from the Irish mascots."

"So?"

"So," said James impatiently, "it vanished, didn't it? By next morning, it had gone!"

"But - it must've been an accident, mustn't it?" said Hermione.

George laughed very bitterly.

"Yeah, that's what we thought, at first. We thought if we just wrote to him, and told him he'd made a mistake, he'd cough up. But nothing doing. Ignored our letter. We kept trying to talk to him about it at Hogwarts, but he was always making some excuse to get away from us."

"In the end, he turned pretty nasty," said Fred. "Told us we were too young to gamble, and he wasn't giving us anything."

"So we asked for our money back," said George glowering.

"He didn't refuse!" gasped Hermione.

"Right in one," said Fred.

"But that was all your savings!" said Ron.

"Tell me about it," said George. "'Course, we found out what was going on in the end. Lee Jordan's dad had had a bit of trouble getting money off Bagman as well. Turns out he's in big trouble with the goblins. Borrowed loads of gold off them. A gang of them cornered him in the woods after the World Cup and took all the gold he had, and it still wasn't enough to cover all his debts. They followed him all the way to Hogwarts to keep an eye on him. He's lost everything gambling. Hasn't got two Galleons to rub together. And you know how the idiot tried to pay the goblins back?"

"How?" said Harry.

"He put a bet on you, mate," said Fred. "Put a big bet on you to win the tournament. Bet against the goblins."

"So that's why he kept trying to help me win!" said Harry. "Well - I did win, didn't I? So he can pay you your gold!"

"Nope," said George, shaking his head. "The goblins play as dirty as him. They say you drew with Diggory, and Bagman was betting you'd win outright. So Bagman had to run for it. He did run for it right after the third task."

George sighed deeply and started dealing out the cards again.

The rest of the journey passed pleasantly enough; Harry wished it could have gone on all summer, in fact, and that he would never arrive at King's Cross . . . but as he had learned the hard way that year, time will not slow down when something unpleasant lies ahead, and all too soon, the Hogwarts Express was pulling in at platform nine and three-quarters. The usual confusion and noise filled the corridors as the students began to disembark. Ron and Hermione struggled out past Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle, carrying their trunks. Harry, however, stayed put.

"Fred - George - wait a moment."

The twins turned. Harry pulled open his trunk and drew out his Triwizard winnings.

"Take it," he said, and he thrust the sack into George's hands.

"What?" said Fred, looking flabbergasted.

"Take it," Harry repeated firmly. "I don't want it."

"You're mental," said George, trying to push it back at Harry. "James already gave us her's."

"No, I'm not," said Harry. "You take it, and get inventing. It's for the joke shop."

"He is mental," Fred said in an almost awed voice.

"He's my cousin." James said with a shrug causing Lee to snort.

"Listen," said Harry firmly. "If you don't take it, I'm throwing it down the drain. I don't want it and I don't need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I've got a feeling we're going to need them more than usual before long."

"Harry," said George weakly, weighing the money bag in his hands, "there's got to be a thousand Galleons in here. Along with James that's…"

"Yeah," said Harry, grinning. "Think how many Canary Creams that is."

The twins stared at him.

"Just don't tell your mum where you got it... although she might not be so keen for you to join the Ministry anymore, come to think of it…"

"Harry," Fred began, but Harry pulled out his wand.

"Look," he said flatly, "take it, or I'll hex you. I know some good ones now. Just do me one favor, okay? Buy Ron some different dress robes and say they're from you."

Harry left the compartment before they could say another word, stepping over Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were still lying on the floor, covered in hex marks.

Mrs. Weasley was close by him. She hugged Harry very tightly when she saw him and whispered in his ear, "I think Dumbledore will let you both come to us later in the summer. Keep in touch you two."

"We will Mrs. Weasley." The two cousin's chorused together.

"See you. Harry," said Ron, clapping him on the back.

"Sure." Harry said with a smile.

"Be calm, James." Ron said with a grin giving her a hug.

"Always." James replied with a grin.

"Bye, Harry!" said Hermione, and she did something she had never done before, and kissed him on the cheek. Harry stayed silent blushing slightly.

"Be good, James." Hermione said and the two did a very French custom, kissing each other's cheeks with smiles.

"Harry - thanks," George muttered, while Fred nodded fervently at his side.

Harry winked at them, turned to be embraced by a very elfin like girl. He hugged her back fiercely as she began to babble about nonsense.

"Be safe." George whispered to James kissing her head softly with a grin.

"Swear." James said with a grin.

"Miss you." Fred whispered in her ear.

"Love you." James whispered back and the two shared their first kiss since the tournament, it wasn't invasive or hurried. It was close mouthed and very sweet.

"I'll miss your Nargle infested hair Harry." Luna stated dreamily to Harry who smiled softly at the younger girl.

"I'll miss your radish earrings Luna." Harry whispered and Fred and James pulled back from the kiss to smile as Harry kissed Luna's forehead sweetly who blushed cutely and smiled at him with a grin.

"James!" a cute boyish voice called and Phineas raced over attaching himself to her leg.

"Don't make me go back, James…"Phineas whimpered in fright.

"Shhhh…" James whispered consoling the young boy.

"Okay lovebirds we've got to go, Blaise is holding the Knight bus." Draco called and James nodded kissing Fred once more before joining her cousin with Harry and Phineas.

The five got on to the bus just in time as Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa had hurried towards them along with Mrs. Zabini.

"Porter st. London." James stated and the other's stared at her.

"We'll the the underground the west of the way, you think Stan or Ernie will deny Lucius Malfoy?" James asked and the others shook their heads.

"This is only the start of war guys, we have to be prepared." Draco stated and the other's nodded at him with tired sighs.

There was no point worrying yet, she told herself, as she leaned back in her seat holding Phineas burrowed into her.

As Hagrid had said, what would come, would come ... and she would have to meet it when it did.

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Some parts seem James favored but really if someone did what James did, do you think that they wouldn't be honored like that? Just saying…please review?

Hisagi-Tan out~


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